


A Swan in Peril

by Redhand



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cersei Bashing, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Lyanna Bashing, Minor Character(s), Pre - Robert's Rebellion, Robert's Rebellion, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-10-13 12:24:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10513716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redhand/pseuds/Redhand
Summary: Jeyne Swann, a lonely but pretty girl from the Marches, is fostered at Storms End at the age of 14. She gets a mother to replace the one she lost, a friend who she can share her solace with, and a home away from home.Lord Steffon's heir befriends her without question. But Jeyne wants to be more than that to him, and take the next step. She will do her utmost to protect him from danger, be it of the sword or of the heart, or die trying.When the drastic events of the slow but steady fall of the reign of King Aerys II come, her journey will become central to that of the future of the realm, and all that goes so horribly wrong from Shipbreaker Bay to Harrenhal.





	1. First Arrival at Storm's End

**Author's Note:**

> So I figured an OC look at the upbringing of the Baratheon boys would be a good way to take a look at Robert's Rebellion and the lead up to it. 
> 
> Canon should diverge at some point. The directions could go any which way as of now. 
> 
> I'll try to update when I can.

Jeyne, 277 AC

I always knew that the ride into Storm’s End was a going to be a slow one. As the daughter of a Marcher Lord with family in Bronzegate, our party had taken a most inconvenient route through the Stormlands in an effort to visit my late Mother’s family, the Bucklers, at their ancestral home. Father, however, was eager to put the unpleasantness of that diversion behind us as we moved towards our true objective.

 

  
Lord Clifford Swann was a short man with thinning grey hair and a hard face, weathered from years of war, but more so from standing upon the parapets of Stonehelm and looking gloomily over the sea. As a man of martial bearing, the most important thing in the world to him was the feeling of doing one’s duty. Making the trip from Stonehelm to Storm’s End allowed him to do exactly that, as he served as Lord Steffon Baratheon’s Master of Arms, and he had important business to discuss. This dreary and hard bitten man was my father, and the only adult influence in my life besides Septa Mylla, after my Mother died from a chill a year ago. He looked contemplative as he stared across the carriage at me. My brother Gulian rode alongside the guards outside, always eager to please father with his austere habits.

 

  
Father seemed to chew on his words as the carriage rolled along before saying, “Jeyne, I am going to need you to remember your graces and treat Lord Steffon and his family with the utmost deference. I have matters to discuss with Lord Steffon, but you and your brother will be on your own for the next week at Storm’s End.”

  
Father looked pained as he noticed Gulian outside practicing a chivalric bow in the direction of a group of giggling smallfolk girls as he rode by. “And none of that, either. That damned boy needs to keep his urges under check if we are to get through this visit without scandal.”

  
I didn’t know where this lecture was coming from. I had always attended my lessons with a headstrong sense of purpose and duty, even if playing outside with Gulian and the servant children was what I really desired. Stonehelm was a lonely place for a girl of 14, but it never really bothered me.

  
As for any notions of scandal, that was not for me either. Most would describe me as pretty, with a thin frame, a heart shaped faced, and long, wavy, black hair. It must also be said that in the last two years, I had developed some, erm, _assets_ , that got sufficient amount of attention from potential suitors, not that there have been many. But I had no interest in scandalous pre-marital activity. I’d rather just be left alone, to be honest.

  
“Of course, Father. I will not let you down,” I said. Father could be demanding at times, but I never wanted to give him reason for embarrassment. Gulian, my 18 year old brother, with his overactive need to gain recognition, which often lead him astray, was probably far more deserving of a lecture.

  
“That’s good to hear. Lady Cassana will be eager to meet you, as she has no daughters of her own. I am sure she will arrange some needlework for the two of you to partake in.” I didn’t think that Father could betray his sense of boredom more than I could with a statement like that, but I said nothing. I figured that Father had less idea what he was talking about than Gulian did when he tried to boast about his knowledge of battle strategy. It was moments like this in which I knew Mother’s absence to be missed the most.  
The woods began to thin around us as the trail became smoother. Storm’s End was coming into view, with its circular frame and imposing battlements pining to reach the sky. I was beginning to get a little bit nervous, as I didn’t really know what to expect from the trip. All I knew was that Father and the Lord of the Stormlands were going to spend a week talking about the military capabilities of our Kingdom. For Marcher Lords like Father, and the Selmys and Dondarrions, war was in our blood. Despite the peace that had reigned on the Dornish Frontier for the last few generations, some things never did change. I still woke every morning to war horns rather than a cock’s crow, and Stonehelm still held archery and lance drills each month for the garrison.

  
The battlements ahead grew larger in size as we drew nearer, and golden banners bearing a Stag became visible. Our carriage lurched over the stone bridge and into the castle. The fortress looked imposing, and it became easy to see why the House that called Storm’s End home were our liege lords.  
“Alright, girl, time to move. Lord Steffon and his family beckon.” Father got out of the carriage with me close behind, and I tried to make sure my dress did not bunch as I stepped down into the courtyard. Gulian continued to look around, amazed at the size of the castle. Father got his attention with a quick rap of his sheathed sword on Gulian’s leg, and the three of us walked forward to Lord Steffon and his family.

  
“Ah, Lord Swann, it is a pleasure to see you once again. I see your children are in good health.” A kind looking man with deep blue eyes and dark black hair strode forwards and shook arms with Father. Gulian and I both knelt in respect, as we were told beforehand to do.

  
“Oh, no need for formalities, Lord Swann, let me introduce my family to your children.” Lady Baratheon strode forwards after Lord Baratheon gestured for her to do so, and she and father made some small talk. I was distracted, however, by the sight of Lord Baratheon’s children. Two boys, both strong and hardy looking, stood a few paces before me. They both had the dark hair of their father and his shockingly blue eyes.

  
“Robert, would you be so kind as to give Lord Swann’s children a tour of the castle while I speak with him?”

  
The larger and elder of the two boys walked towards Gulian and I, before stating, “Follow me” and striding with energy towards one of the taller buildings that ringed the grounds. Gulian and I followed him with some trepidation, as the boy we knew to be Lord Steffon’s heir walked through a door and pointed up.  
“Well, that is where you will be staying, the guest tower. Would you like to see the training yard?” he asked.

  
Gulian and I both said yes, as this seemed much better than simply waiting in the building before the feast Father said would be held tonight. After a quick tour of the battlements, which truly did dwarf any I had ever seen before, Robert led the two of us through the courtyard and towards what looked to be a bunch of training dummies. I noticed the hard muscles of the rear of his frame and the carefree jaunt that he seemed to walk with. It was clear that this was a boy who was bound for great things and seemed to know it.

  
For the next few hours, Robert and Gulian sparred, and despite Gulian being three years older than Lord Steffon’s heir, Robert kept him on his back foot the whole time with his fierce looking combination of hammer and shield strikes. I spent the meantime in conversation with Stannis, Lord Steffon’s second son, and he asked me mostly about Stonehelm and what life in the Marches was like. He seemed to brighten up temporarily, as if it was possible for Stannis’s dour bearing, when I mentioned how rigorous and martial things were, from the monthly war drills to what passed for commerce in Stonehelm (our family’s wealth was quite dependent on the sale of ballistae, catapults, boiling oil launchers, and other forms of siege weaponry, to the Archons of the Free Cities). Stannis, truthfully, would have likely been happier if he was born a Swann.

  
During one of the breaks that Gulian and Robert were taking during their sparring, I asked Robert if I could see where the stables were in Storm’s End. Horse riding, racing, and hunting were my true passions, despite my deference to the duties of learning the womanly arts. I told Stannis and Robert of this earlier while on the tour of the battlements, and Gulian had snorted that he too knew of my desire to waste time on things I had no business doing.

  
Robert sprung up from his seat, put his arm around me, and startled chortling, “See, this is the kind of girl we need around here! I’m quite tired of pretending to take interest in the tales of embroidery from every possible match that Father puts before me.”

  
I started blushing furiously, and said “I doubt that Lord Steffon had any intention of doing any such thing. I am only here to accompany Father while he reports to Lord Steffon.”  
I earnestly had no idea of what Robert spoke of, as Father would have told me if we were there to discuss a betrothal. Adding to that, my family being of the station that we were, I doubt that the Baratheons would have had any interest in such a proposal. Robert was as attractive of a suitor that I could ever ask for, and his gregarious disposition made conversation with him a pleasant experience, but that kind of conversation would be a futile one.

  
“Ha, if you say so, Jeyne. Tell you what, though, sometime this week, I’ll take you out riding and we’ll have a great time. It’ll be just like when I am at the Eyrie with Lord Arryn and Ned. I spend half the year there and its always more interesting than this place.” I had notice that Stannis’s scowl deepened at the mention of this “Ned”, and took a harder than normal swing at a training dummy.

  
Seeking to ameliorate the situation, I told Robert that I would be delighted to do so, if Stannis too could come. It seemed like the best way to follow Father’s instructions was to make sure that both sons of Lord Steffon liked me. The group of us heard the call to come to the main hall, where the feast was soon to begin. Stannis and Robert seemed to be battling in an effort to maneuver themselves into who was get there first.

  
The candle lights of the main hall shone brightly as we walked in. I was paired with Stannis, his arm around mine, as we walked in with the rest of the highborn in attendance to the main table. It seemed as if there were a few other Storm Lords in attendance, mostly those from the local area. My uncle, Lord Bryan Buckler, who we had just seen yesterday, smiled as he saw me enter the hall. Gulian and Lady Baratheon walked in after us, along with some of the members of House Hasty and House Fell. Ser Bonnifer the Good was in attendance, and his bearing was as grim as described.

  
Stannis had taken me to my assigned place in the hall, across from Robert and next to Gulian, before taking his own seat. Lord Steffon stood up and looked around before stating, “It is good to see all of you tonight, my Lords. As you are aware, the King currently sits imprisoned in Duskendale, and the Hand of the King has written requesting estimates of our strength should war come to the Seven Kingdoms. Many men in this hall fought to put the last Blackfyre down, but we can never fully be sure that more will not arise, or that we will not be called to defend the realm in the meantime. “

  
At this point, Father stood up and said, “Thank you, my Lord. For the next week, I will be making the rounds of the northern half of the Stormlands to put our strength to a full estimate. In the meantime, I ask that all in attendance be aware that we cannot ever be unprepared. Keep the health of your horses strong and keep your arsenals stacked with weapons.” Father’s perpetual hardened visage did not lighten as he sat down. What a way to start a feast.

  
As the various courses came out, I grew more and more engrossed with a conversation between myself, Robert, and Stannis, while discussing the merits of lances in combat. I had taken to my history lessons with a vigor in recent years, and while Gulian was scarcely interested in what I had to say, it seemed that Robert and Stannis did care about my opinions.

  
Robert looked at me and stated, “My Lady, listen, I spend about half the year in the Vale. It’s as mountainous as any area in the realm, and the going for horses is slow and often perilous. A lance is entirely based off of the momentum that a rider can deliver into a point on a charge. Why use it if it is not suited for all kinds of combat?”

  
I replied, immediately, “Of course it is no good in the deep mountains. But that isn’t the point. Lances allow knights to break the formations of infantry, even spear wielding infantry, and maximize force potential. If a weapon can stack up five men as casualties on a single charge, allow for recycling and repeat, and do it again, that is a weapon worth bringing to the field.”

  
Stannis seemed to hedge between us, and said, “A lance is all well and good when used by disciplined men in a disciplined manner. But far too often, the utilizers of the lance are puffed up, preening Reachmen who care more for how they look than how they fight. The issue is not with the weapon, which is as deadly as described, but with the men holding them.”

  
We all agreed to disagree on this point, but Gulian leaned over me and whispered in my ear, “Stop being such a damned Marcher woman all the time, talking of lances at a feast. Father would be proud, but if an actual suitor heard you talking that way, they’d be out the door in an instant.”

  
I grew red with anger at that. Gulian was always undermining me, always ruining everything. I had finally found some new friends, and he was doing his best to embarrass me. When it came to dancing, once the meals were over with, I sat in my seat with my head in my hands. Robert had taken to the dance floor, spinning his mother and all of the serving girls around, having a grand time. Gulian had joined the growing crowd as well. Stannis and I were the ones who seemed most resistant to join in.

  
“Not much of a dancing type, huh?” I asked.

  
Stannis looked over, and just scowled. I don’t think he meant anything personal by it, but like me, Stannis just enjoyed his solace. The two of us just sat together in silence and let the festivities go on around us.

  
By the time Father came by and we were escorted to our lodgings, it looked like he too wanted to slip out. We Swanns have never loved feasts, but Gulian sure as hell did, as I saw him slip out of the hall with a serving girl wrapped around him.

  
Perhaps Storm’s End would be for some of us, at least, a productive visit.


	2. A New Home (temporarily, that is)

**Jeyne, 277 AC, Storm’s End**

I pushed the horse as hard as I could, a loaned mare from the Baratheon stables, as Robert and I rode after one another. Stannis lagged somewhat farther behind, but the two of us were determined to win the race. Around the crofter’s hut, through small forest, and up into the rich green meadow that lie two leagues west of Storm’s End. Riding with the Baratheon brothers was a lot of fun, even if Stannis insisted on not leaving sight of the sea.

“You’re not getting there first, Jeyne!” yelled Robert, as he pushed ahead just before we reached the stream that marked the finish line. Robert maneuvered his destrier in front of me right as the stream crossed into vision, cutting off my line of advance.

“Hey, you cut me off!” I yelled back, just as we crossed the stream. Stannis caught up a few seconds later, out of breath. I slapped Robert playfully on the arm and maneuvered my mare facing the other way.

“Well, I never said I would play fair. After all, most Knights are actually scoundrels, and I see no reason to change that. You think the oils of a Septon changes winning and losing?!” he said, giving me a push back.

Stannis just glared at Robert, and the three of us started riding back to the castle slowly. It had been a fun day out beyond the battlements of the castle. We had been at Storm’s End for 2 days now, and Septa Mylla had arrived the day before, meaning that I was stuck doing lessons all day. But Robert had promised me a day outside, and had delivered, asking my Septa to let me go for a while with that charming grin of his. She did not object.

I didn’t really know what to expect, but I was just glad that Gulian did not come along and embarrass me further. He and Robert got along fine yesterday, going down to the village and drinking together at a tavern for the smallfolk. It seems that Robert is very popular among the local smallfolk, and goes out of his way to visit them and enjoy their company. On one hand, it seems inappropriate for an heir of his status to do so, but on the other hand, men beloved of the smallfolk frequently find good fortune in life. I do not believe this has occurred to him. I think he genuinely likes being with people who love life as he does.

Father today had gone to visit the Tarth lands, and apprise Lord Selwyn of his lands and holdings for their martial value. Yesterday, he had ridden as far as Grandview and Fawnton to visit Lords Grandison and Cafferen. He came back muttering about how the Lords and Knights there seemed wary to give any information up without a royal warrant. Their proximity to King’s Landing, and the frequent excursions of the Kingsguard to their holdings to clear the path for Royal hunting expeditions, made their attachment to Storm’s End a matter of law and of taxes rather than fact.

As we got closer to the castle, Stannis asked, “Lady Jeyne, do you frequently ride like that at Stonehelm? I do not recall if horse riding are part of a lady’s education.” He seemed genuinely interested, but I could not help but wonder if Stannis ever let loose at all.

I replied, as nicely as I could, “It is not part of a lady’s lessons, no. I however have loved riding since Father taught me how after my fourth nameday. Gulian has told me repeatedly that it will scare off suitors to have a woman who can ride like a man. I suppose then, that I will die an old maid.” I had been joking deadpan by the last part of my reply, and luckily, it seemed that Robert and Stannis both understood.

“Your brother said that? He didn’t strike me as the uptight type yesterday. Well, bugger that, you know what you want and go for it. Nothing wrong with that!” Robert said, slinging his arm around my neck and holding me close. I laughed as he almost pulled me from my horse, and asked him half-heartedly to stop.

Stannis seemed to pale as he heard his brother’s coarse language, but the look I gave him made it clear I was not offended. Frankly, I was just glad that for once, someone my age seemed to like my company. I was quite lonely at home, and these boys were as different as possible, but they both seemed to at least care what I had to say or think.

We arrived at the stables a few minutes later, and I followed the guys to the training yard, where they spent every afternoon swinging away at targets, squires, each other, and anything they could. Father had arranged for me to have self-defense lessons when my moon’s blood had first arrived, for reasons of protecting my honor should it come to that, with a short sword, but other than a bit of archery, I knew not what I was doing at the training yard, and preferred to watch.

As usual, Robert battered away at Stannis for a few minutes until the smaller boy had bruises, but he kept popping back up and trying again. I got the impression that this pattern would continue until someone stopped it. I saw the Castellan, Harbert, nearby, and asked if he could have Stannis practice with me for a while.

Harbert seemed to object by the look of his face at first, but saw what was happening, and with a relenting sigh, said, “Alright, that is fine, Lady Jeyne. In the future, please do not encourage such activity among Lord Steffon’s sons. They are both prideful lads, and someone could get hurt. And do not tell your father.”

I had a reply stuck on my tongue about how I did nothing of the sort, but decided to hold it. A lady’s place was to obey and observe, not to criticize.

Stannis seemed to sulk over to me, but when I asked him if I could learn from such a brave and gallant future knight like him, he perked up a bit and started showing me the details of fighting with a broadsword. I found the broadsword to be incredibly heavy and hard to maneuver, so instead, he brought out a longsword of Essosi origins, and had me practice with that instead.

He and I thrusted and parried at each other for the next half hour, but I knew that he was going easy on me. Still, I worked at it, and felt that I could at least hold my own in a fight if it came to that by the end. Stannis seemed proud of his efforts, and forgot about his conflict with Robert for a while. It was quite hard to make friends with two lads who seemed determined to outcompete each other at all times of the day like that.

That evening, Father came into my room in the guest building and seemed a bit awkward at first. The maids who had been assigned to me stopped prepping my bed for a second. “Ladies, I need to speak to my daughter for a while. Alone.”

Septa Mylla and the maids left my room, and I, in my night clothes, looked up at father from my seat near the bed. He had a strange look on his face, as if he knew not what to say in the situation. I figured he was going to lecture me for my activities with the Baratheon sons today, and tell me about my duties and obligations again. I felt that I was fulfilling them, honestly, and that if I was having fun in the meantime, what wrong was I committing? But I knew how things worked for real.

The stones in the walls seemed to draw closer as I started fearing what Father would say. The dark breeze blowing through the room started up again, as father started to open his mouth.

“Jeyne, I have heard that you have been fighting with swords in the training yard today, and riding outside the grounds.” He said this without emotion, and more suspiciously, without judgment.

I ventured to say, “Yes Father, I have. Robert and Stannis have been very kind to me, and have shown me around. I volunteered to spar with Stannis for a while so that Robert would lay off him in the training yard. I felt that I was doing what you asked.” I added the last part with a defensive tone in my voice.

Father did not miss a beat, but instead of being angry, he said, “It seems that you have made a great impression on Lord Steffon’s sons. I was looking to foster Gulian here as a ward, but truthfully he is a man grown now and could do with a tour of the Free Cities now, followed by an official household positon, as befitting an heir.”

I could tell what Father was implying, and my heartbeat shot up a measure of multiple beats, and asked, “Father, are you telling me that I can stay at Storm’s End as a ward?”

Father’s face crinkled a bit as he noticed my poorly suppressed enthusiasm, and said, “Yes, Jeyne, that is what I am saying. I planned on marrying you off soon, but that can wait a few years. For you to be formally invited like this means that you have made enough of an impression that your time here will be a service and duty to our house.” It always came back to duty with Father. I should not be surprised, but I was not unhappy either.

Impulsively, I hugged him and said, “Thank you so much, Father. I will not let you down!”

It was not often that I displayed emotion like that, especially with Father, but I loved him, and knew that I would not see him for a while after the week ended. He reacted with a jolt, but hugged me back. I hoped I had not displeased him, eager as I was to not return to Stonehelm, but I think he understood.

Father let go of me, and then stated, “I must leave for Stonehelm, right now, actually, along with Gulian. There is a dispute between a group of bandits and smallfolk near the castle, which is threatening to spill over into conflict if I do not arrive. I will not see you for some time, Jeyne. Please mind your duty and make us all proud.”

At that, Father left the room. He and Gulian were leaving, now, in the middle of the night. I suppose things happen, but I hoped everything would be okay.

I could scarcely fall asleep that night, but eventually night turned to morning and I woke with a start. Stannis and Robert at breakfast seemed thrilled that I was going to be staying (and by thrilled in regards to Stannis, I mean that I actually saw him not scowl for an entire minute; as for Robert, he picked me up and twirled me in a circle).

A week passed of me largely going to lessons early in the day and hanging out with Robert and Stannis later on at the training yard. I had practiced sword fighting and archery a bit here and there, but largely, I just watched the two of them as they sparred with others, and hoped that they would not turn their blunted blades on each other. Father and Gulian had departed, while Septa Mylla and I stayed behind.

I arrived at my lessons on time that day, and Septa Mylla was there, along with Lady Cassana. I was surprised that she had taken the time to come along, but I figured she must have had her reasons.

“Jeyne, it is good to see you. I have always wanted to teach a young lady about the arts of womanhood. The Gods have just blessed me with a healthy son, little Renly, but no daughters as of yet. I offered to your Septa to assist in your lessons for a while.” Lady Cassana seemed happy to see me there, and her warm face displayed its customary good cheer and patience.

I nervously said, “My Lady, you do me an honor with such an act. I hope to be worthy of your tutelage.”

Septa Mylla and I shared a look of understanding, as I knew, and she knew, that my needlework was awful, and that my knowledge of history and sums made the Maesters quite happy, but interrupted my studies of event planning and other homemaking activities. Lady Cassana laughed, and stated, “I am a patient woman, and I promise that you will gain much from my teaching.”

The lessons began as usual, with an hour of needlework, and I worked on making a dress that somehow ended up looking like a sash more fit for a Volantene pleasure slave than any kind of lady. Septa Mylla again critiqued me on my technique, and told me what I was doing wrong. I again absorbed her words with my customary patience and indifference. It was pointless, and we both had parts to play, so we played them.

Lady Cassana looked me over for a moment, and stated, “You know what? Jeyne, you will never be good at needlework. But most ladies never are. My needlework is just as bad, as is that of all my cousins, and most say that of my Lord’s cousin, Queen Rhaella, as well.”

I was about to object and ask about where her supposed patience was, before she quickly followed that up by saying, “That however does not mean that you cannot learn important skills in your own right. We can work on feast planning, and courtesies, starting tomorrow. In the meantime, please write down a list of your favorite hobbies and what you like to read about. “

She smiled and produced parchment, a quill, and ink, before leaving the room. Septa Mylla looked at me, as if she was mortified, and for the rest of my ladies lesson period, which lasted another two hours, I worked on making my Volantene whore garment into something better (by which I mean it now looks more frayed at the edges and more provocative, and is more of a Lyseni whore outfit instead). I had written down the list and given it to Septa Mylla, who though was always kind to me, disapproved of my interests, and made that known with an audible sigh.

Robert had killed a wild boar that managed to get near where he was riding earlier that day, and for supper, Lord Steffon decided to make a meal of the boar. Robert was showing Stannis and I a letter from his friend Elbert Arryn, the heir, who spoke of the persistent issue of the Mountain Clans raiding the road from the Eyrie to the home of his cousins at Gulltown. The three of us had taken to discussing war strategy and historical battles at supper each night at the table, and the issue of the Mountain Clans had come up as a result.

Robert said, “There is probably a good reason why the Clans have never been stopped. Perhaps it is best to play their own strategy against them, and simply defend the population centers while laying ambushes for them on the sides of the main roads.” I had listened with patience, but Stannis replied before me.

He said, “The duty of any Lord is to wipe out threats to his people and his honor. The Clans must be wiped out, and this time, for good. ”

I chimed in, saying, “Perhaps trying to fight the Clans is the wrong approach. We know that they live in the mountains and the forest at the base of those mountains. Simply burn the forest to the ground, and they will have nowhere to hide, and during winter, find the merchants that do illicit business with them and shut them down, or better yet, get them to trade faulty and disease ridden goods. There is no need to fight battles where hunger and sickness can bring them to heel.”

At this, Lord Steffon looked at me like I had some kind of disease, before stating, “Lady Jeyne’s views reveal quite a bit. Perhaps I now know why no grain fields are grown in the fertile regions of the Dornish borderlands. We do indeed have a Marcher woman among us!”, and the entire hall starting laughing. I was mortified, of course, before I saw that Lord Steffon and his sons were smiling at me rather than mocking or judging. Perhaps this truly was Home for me.

Stannis offered me a piece of bread, and Robert put his arm around me again and with his delightfully wine-sodden breath, which I found charming for some reason, spoke into my ear directly, “Alright, if I ever go to war, you are coming with me. They’ll hear you are there, and surrender straight away!”

I blushed, as I took the bread and took a bite. Having this many people hear what I was saying, and actually consider it, was a new experience for me. And having Robert constantly being so touchy and feely with me was by no means a negative, I noted, as his hand lingered over my breasts for a moment. I don’t even think he noticed it, and seemed to do that to most of the servant girls anyways, but I liked the feeling nonetheless.  

I had gone to bed that night with some joy, but had woken with trepidation, knowing that Lady Cassana’s lesson for me was going to begin sooner rather than later. I arrived in Septa Mylla’s solar after morning meal and saw Lady Cassana going over my list from yesterday.

She looked up and said, “Well, there is a lot we can do with this, believe it or not.”

Lady Cassana strode around the room, looking briefly out the window at the sea below, before saying, “Jeyne, if you were to take the garrison of Storm’s End out on a raiding mission towards King’s Landing, for whatever reason, what provisions would you have the quartermaster bring along?”

I thought about it for a minute, before replying, “Well my Lady, knowing that 6000 men are sworn directly to Storm’s End in total through Lord Steffon’s personal demesne, the garrison should be about 2000 men strong in the event of a siege. In that event, probably only 100 horsemen are with them, and as a result, feed for the horses would be brought, as well as any spare parts for their upkeep, saddles and the like. The infantry too would have spare parts for replacement, and while the land could be lived off of for a few weeks at most, we would need to bring likely a stone of grain for each day while out raiding, with which bread rations could be made, as well as meat of varying levels of freshness. Mead and ale for the men, as well, but not too much as to make them drunk. About what we would provision for a normal feast of highborn lords of the realm.”

I had rattled this off largely without thinking, having an instinctive feel for the situation. Septa Mylla stared at me as if I had done something as horrible as broken a needle or spoken positively of a Dornishman.

Lady Cassana smiled, and then said, “So you are as I thought. This event planning business is indeed for you! You must think of your guests as soldiers needing provision for one night, and plan accordingly. Are you capable of using a double account ledger?”

I blinked for a moment, and then stated, “Yes, my Lady, that was one of the first things that Maester Ledden taught me at Stonehelm.”

She thought for a second, and continued, “Very well, Jeyne, I want you to account for what you think each guest, with differences accounted for judging on rank and reputation, would consume at a feast, and realize that you should over budget by about a third. That way, I have found, there is plenty in case of emergency, and more often than not, the local smallfolk can have a bounty worth celebration for afterwards. The list of feast or tourney materials is in that book near your hand, gesturing at the one on the table.”

She paused for a moment, before stating, “I believe your impediment in this field is a lack of interest, not ability. You have the mind for it. Now work on making a hypothetical feast at Storm’s End for each Lord, Knight, and their families, and provision that feast. It should take you about a week to finish this task.”

Once again, Lady Cassana left the room, and left me alone with my Septa. Truthfully, I was excited for this, as I had a challenge worth my time and interest relating to the womanly arts. I could please everyone accomplishing it. For the rest of my lesson, Septa Mylla had me go over my courtesies. Greetings and courtesies were tedious, but I realized that ultimately, they were the underpinnings of how life worked, and the references and deferences to power meant a continued adherence to civilized behavior. They may seem a bit much, but without them, we would be little more than Wildlings, with no family structure or political structure or anything. Perhaps I was overthinking it, but then again, I overthought most things. Duty was still my watchword, and Marcher women will always do their duty, even if that meant knowing how to address a Northern hedge knight (apparently they had them, despite only White Harbor following the Seven) or a Tyroshi merchant-prince.

Having friends and a woman that I looked up to in my life certainly offered new opportunities. I just hoped I didn’t think too much and let them pass me by.

 


	3. Meeting Donal Noye, and Facing Hard Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely sure where I am going to take this, as of yet. 
> 
> Some major canon characters will be introduced next chapter, but not in a way that will change the story.

**Jeyne, 277 AC, Storm’s End**

The mock feast preparations had gone well, and as the next month rolled on by, I became even more used to the routine that I was settling into. Lady Cassana had gone out of her way to make my education as personally satisfying as possible. I had probably learned more in the last five weeks here at Storm’s End than I had for all the years I spent in Stonehelm trying to make myself scarce from scrutiny.

When showing her my final report for the mock feast, she took careful notice of my notes on the side of the ledger, and her brow crinkled a bit before asking, “Jeyne, you seem to have budgeted for the standard needs of every Storm Lord and his family, along with the minor landed knights, and included that mark up by a third that we spoke of. However, I must ask, why the constant adjustments to the meat and alcohol tallies?”

I knew what she spoke of, and replied, “I was merely doing the revisions for personalities and how the event may proceed ask you asked, my Lady. For example, it is known that Lord Buckler, my uncle, and his younger brother Ser Alyn, will engage in a drinking contest at every feast. This has often disturbed my father quite a bit whenever we have visited them at Bronzegate. The two will drink up to 10 times what even your son Robert is capable of. On the other hand, I am aware of the fact that if Ser Barristan the Bold of House Selmy was in attendance, and he might have been, every man in the hall would likely moderate their intake of ale and duckling in an effort to follow his example.”

Lady Cassana looked impressed, before going on to state, “Well, Jeyne, it seems that you have followed my instructions to the letter. I will leave you with a scroll, put together by Lord Steffon’s Master of Whispers, which I had assembled for this very purpose. “Lady Cassana stood up off of her seat, and moved towards the entryway of the lesson room, before turning once more to smile at me.

“By the way, you are correct about Lord Buckler and Ser Alys. However, on the front of Ser Barristan, it is his constant appeals to honorable and dutiful conduct that drives men to drink _more,_ not less, as his example is indeed hard to live up to.” At that, she exited the room.

Sometimes I wondered exactly how much work went into being the Lady Paramount of a great house. It seemed that Lady Cassana did much more behind the scenes than she appeared to while sitting quietly at the side of Lord Steffon.

There was much to say for my newfound friendship with Stannis, as well. The two of us were quite alike in that we understood dedication to duty, and the value of being left alone in our solace. When the two of us were alone, we realized there was no need for false merriment or anything of the sort. Stannis had continued on occasion to teach me the ways of swordsmanship, and I had continued to improve, despite knowing that he never really pushed me hard in training. Perhaps he felt it was his duty to assist me, and I felt it was mine to make him feel like a Knight worthy of the Sword of the Morning in return.

As for Robert, well, that was another matter entirely. We were nothing alike, yet he always brought the fun side out of me and never once was lacking for good cheer and attitude. He loved to take me out of the castle grounds and explore the rolling fields and wind bitten forests surrounding Storm’s End, and as of late, we had gone hunting on more than one occasion.

“You terrify all the boar in the Stormlands with your savage heavy footed approach!” he would say, if we were not successful on the hunt. Of course, as talented as Robert was with a spear, it was probably his loud laughter and constant attempts at drawing me into wrestling matches that scared off the boar.

“Robert, I believe the problems may be more on your end. After all, what boar could not smell the Arbor Gold on your breath from a league out?” I would jest in return. The two of us never were too serious, and it felt like our days outside the castle grounds would never end.

After our unfortunately empty hunt, which was mostly because of Robert’s insistence on making me laugh at all of his lewd songs, which certainly would cause Septa Mylla to go into an apoplectic fit if she was in hearing range, we rode our horses down from the rocky cliffs that ran astride Storm’s End and onto the green hills that led into some of the villages surrounding Storm’s End. Robert’s guardsmen, as always, had long since tried keeping up with the pair of us.

“Jeyne, come this way, I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine”, Robert said, as our horses strode towards a hitching post near what looked to be a small tavern. The two of us dismounted and I followed his lead inside, apprehensive of what was behind the door. It turns out that I should have not worried, as ale and song and good cheer were what awaited us inside.

A group of smallfolk men seemed to brighten up as they took in the pair of us, and another strong looking man at the end of their table, with the look of a blacksmith said, “Lord Robert, who is this friend of yours?”

“Ah, Donal, this is Jeyne, of House Swann, and she is staying at Storm’s End for a while. I figured she should get to know you, as she seemingly has taken an interest in swordsmanship with my brother Stannis as of late, thinking that I wouldn’t notice”, he said with a grin, before patting Donal and I on the back.

Robert continued, “This is Donal Noye, Jeyne. He is in my mind, the best blacksmith in the Seven Kingdoms, though he’d be too modest to admit it. Forged that Warhammer that I am so fond of, after all.”

Donal took a look at me for a second, before playfully saying, “Now, milady, I have to ask, what is a lass who looks like you doing playing with swords in the first place, not to mention coming into a place like this!” At that, his companions seemed to chuckle, but I knew it was in good fun, and had smiled anyways.

I replied, “To be honest, I do not know. Robert took me here after once again spoiling an attempt at hunting with his loud singing voice, and told me that I should meet a friend of his.” The others at the tavern laughed at the mention of Robert’s songs, no doubt being acquainted with them on a personal level.

Donal smiled and said, “Well, I’ll tell you what. Robert wants me to make a sword for you, and has already agreed to pay for it-“

At that, I interjected, and said, “I have money of my own, and he did not need to do any such thing.”

At that, Robert slapped his hand down on the table, and said, “Jeyne, as you know, I’m leaving for the Vale in a few weeks, and I won’t be here for your nameday. Consider this an early nameday present.” I had no idea that he knew of my nameday, or had cared to find out. I felt rather flushed as I nodded my head in agreement to the idea.

At that, the three of us talked about specifications for the sword and what would work best for me. I wanted something light, yet with reach, and okay, I’ll admit, because I wasn’t paying for it, I asked for a dual swan pommel to match my house’s sigil. Robert at that laughed about my expensive lady-like tastes, and the tavern again had a laugh at my expense, but again, I knew it was all in good fun.

As we geared up to leave, Donal said, “Alright, I’ll have the sword done for you in a few weeks. I could rush it, as I have made hundreds of blades like that before, but the pommel will take some time, and since you are highborn, I suppose I ought to use the best steel I’ve got.”

“Thank you, Donal, again for this”, Robert said, and I could tell that this was somewhat important to him. Truth be told, I had never received a nameday gift before besides those from my Father, Maester Lydden, as well as Mother, when she lived. I had thought about this for a second, and realized that my brother and I, who were never on the best of terms anyways, had never given each other nameday gifts. As I knew Gulian’s was coming up in a few weeks, around when Robert was due to leave, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

Robert had gone outside to bring the horses some feed from the tavern, and I asked the blacksmith, “A few weeks ago, my brother Gulian I believe came here with Robert while the rest of my family was still here. Do you know if Gulian had a sword that might need replacement?”

At the mention of Gulian, the men in the tavern again brightened up, and one of them said, “Oh, so you are that young Lordling’s sister, eh? Him and Robert threw a party here that the village will never forget-“

One of the other men interjected, “Now, he was using his sword alright, but not one made of steel!” as the others fell down laughing, and one of them slapped the tavern wench who brought out the drinks on her rear as she blushed and looked away.

I wasn’t surprised at all to hear this, knowing Gulian’s predilections and Robert's love for fun. But I really did not want to know the intricate details of exactly what, and erm, who, Gulian was doing in his spare time, so I bid Donal Noye goodbye, and went out to greet Robert.

As I got on my horse, and we started back on the path up to the castle, he asked, “So what exactly did you say to get everyone in there all worked up again, Jeyne? Did you tell them of Stannis’s idea to banish whores to the Silent Sisters, or perhaps of my idea instead to dress the whores with your attempts at needlework?”, he said, smiling at the look on my face. His deep blue eyes seem to light up with laughter whenever I felt a little bit uncomfortable. I’d have to work on that.

“No, although that would have done it as well. It is indeed a cheerful bunch in there. I had rather asked about perhaps buying my brother a new sword, and they had sworn to a man that he had a sword he was quite fond of already”, I added, looking a bit put out that Gulian did not follow Father’s instructions, but also quite unsurprised.

Robert at that boomed out a laugh, and said with a grin, “Yeah, your brother certainly knows how to have a good time. Although, the way you talk about him, it seems like he might have missed out on a lot, with you around and all. What girls could he possibly find that could beat him in a horse race?” I started blushing furiously at that, and attempted to hide it by letting out a loud cough.

“Ha, careful now, Jeyne”, Robert said, steadying my horse with his right hand. I stared shamelessly at the hard muscles on his arms that crept up to his shoulder. _Get some control of yourself_ , my conscience roared.

I was able to clear my head, and regain my thoughts, before we started moving again. Something however was gnawing deep in the pit of my mind, and I felt that I should ask. My feelings were all over the place and making me react in ways I didn’t quite understand.

“So, Robert, when you party the way that you do, whether here or at the Vale, do you ever, um, you know,-“

I was extremely embarrassed to be asking, and yeah, I kind of knew the answer, but it was probably something that I would be a bad friend not to address with him.

For the first time, I think ever, Robert actually looked uncomfortable, and shared my deepening look of red. “Um”, he started, “I, um, have been known from time to time to do what other men my age, um, are known to do.” He left it at that, and it seemed clear that he really had no interest in this conversation.

But I pushed on anyways, “Well, doesn’t that, sort of, complicate Lord Steffon’s search for a match for you?” Robert again seemed quite interested in the ground he was staring at, and chewed over his words.

“To be honest, Jeyne, I’ve never seen myself as the marrying type. I know that I will one day be Lord of Storm’s End, and all of that, but I’ve always just wanted to go to Essos and join the Golden Company, or form my own group of sellswords, and fight in the Disputed Lands.” I actually did not know of this, nor do I think he had ever told anyone before, but he continued on.

“Please don’t tell anyone of this. You are one of my dearest friends now, and I’ve never told anyone, not even Ned, of that before. But sometimes I wish I wasn’t born the son of a Lord Paramount, even though I love my Father. I’m great at swinging a hammer, and probably could be a good mercenary, but I can’t stand counting coppers, as the numbers jump around on the page when I look at them. I’ve tried reading books, but other than the stories of war and battle, I can’t finish a book. And I frankly don’t like most Ladies that I’ve met, and have no interest in playing house with one.”

This was a lot to soak in. I felt that I had to help him in some way, but I was not sure how. “Well, Robert, I’m actually quite good at counting coppers, as you call it, and I’d be willing to help you out with that. But please, do not do anything rash that would lead me or Stannis to never see you again without speaking to me first.”

“I won’t”, he said, as he put his arm around me and hugged me as we crossed the gate into the castle.

“Can you promise?” I asked. I pulled out a mini black and white scarf from the lining of my golden (now greenish gray) riding garment with the dual swans of House Swann on it, and motioned towards his arm. I tied the miniscarf around his arm, and looked into his eyes with some trepidation.

Robert looked back, and nodding slowly, said “I promise.”

The two of us hitched our horses back into the stables, and I felt as if something between us had changed after he confessed all of that to me as he escorted me into the main hall. Lady Cassana looked at me a little bit suspiciously as I sat in my place for supper, with my eyes not leaving Robert as he took his place across the table from me. It was a quiet event, and Stannis seemed fine with that as well.

That night, as I sat in my room and looked at the stars shining brightly out the window, I could not sleep, or gather my thoughts, for that matter, in a way that would bring me peace.

It was obvious to me that I was physically attracted to Robert, in ways that were making me feel different than I ever had in the past. It was also obvious that Robert longed to be free of the burdens of duty that were integral to my worldview, and the worldview that governed how those of our station behaved. Robert loved life, loved women, loved excitement and adventure, and was passionately loyal to his friends. I still had no delusions that Father and Lord Steffon would make a match for the pair of us, and now I began to question what exactly I should do about this whole situation.

It was clear that Robert and I were friends. Perhaps it should stay that way. I would likely marry a minor Reach Lord or into house in the south of the Stormlands, like the Estermonts, or more likely, a random landed Knight. And I should be happy with that, fulfilling my duty to family and putting Lady Cassana’s lessons to good use.


	4. The Lions Visit Storm's End

**Jeyne, 277 AC, Storm’s End**

Trotting my horse back into the stables, I dismounted with my new sword, _Stabber_ (Yes, I picked out the name, and yes, Donal Noye and everyone I have seen since laughed at me for that one) sheathed at my waist. I was going to put it in my room straight away, not wanting to draw attention. I held it as a token of Robert’s esteem for me, but I did not feel like sharing that with others all the time. Robert was going to leave for the Eyrie in a few days, and likely would not be back for months.

His excitement at his imminent departure had made allies of Stannis and I. While I’m sure all of his friends in the Vale were perfectly nice boys, it did not remove the sting of the fact that the best friend I had ever had was very much eager to leave Storm’s End, and everyone in it, behind. Supper that evening was particularly galling.

A cold wind blew in from the doors as the servants came in bearing food for Lord Steffon’s family, but Robert continued his excited ramblings as if nothing had gone amiss.

“-and then, we’ll probably go down to the Bloody Gate and practice throwing rocks down onto the crag below. I can tell you for a fact, Ned can throw a bloody good rock, even if he gets all timid whenever one of Lord Arryn’s guards sees him. But really, when Denys and I go to the village inn, I’m sure that I can get Aisha, the tavern wench, to cover for us-“

I was sort of zoning him out at this point. I don’t think that Robert understood that recalling and predicting a bunch of new adventures that he would be going on with people that neither I nor Stannis had ever met did not make for the greatest of conversations. But I think it was fine, as it did not seem as if he noticed that Stannis and I were engaging in an intense battle of wits as we both inched closer and closer to a piece of lamprey hanging off of Robert’s plate, trying to get to it first without anyone noticing. His customary frown deepened as my hand slid closer and closer, while he was held back by Robert’s hand on his shoulder. I reached out, but was interrupted by a sharp dragging noise, as Lord Steffon stood and looked over the small group in attendance and began to speak.

“If I could have a moment of your time-“, Lord Steffon began, before noticing that Robert had happily continued on talking to himself quite animatedly.

“Robert, I’m sure that you will again enjoy your time in the Vale, and I thank you for informing us of that”, he said, before continuing, “I have received a raven today from King’s Landing that presents an interesting opportunity for us. It seems that that the King’s Hand, Lord Tywin, is looking to betroth his daughter Cersei. While I am sure that he will look first at the Royal Prince, Tywin will be making a stop at Storm’s End to discuss political matters with myself.”

Lord Steffon looked over the hall somewhat warily, before continuing, “Now, Robert, Stannis, you are both of age for such a betrothal to make sense, so I hope you will be on your best behavior, and make Lady Cersei feel at home until it is time for Lord Tywin to depart. The girl has just had her moon’s blood from what I am told.”

The last part, from what I could tell, was a sign that Lord Steffon saw the situation as being one of some urgency. Cersei Lannister could hardly be older than 12 name days, yet I too had my moon’s blood at that age. At the time, Father was seemingly terrified, as it had meant that I was of age to be considered marriageable. Of course, he had not intended on marrying me off until age 15 at the youngest, and possibly much later. Women from House Swann tend to be quite fertile, and there is a limit to the amount of children a good lord should want. The Freys served as a good example of this. Upon the death of Old Lord Walder, the house will likely dissolve into civil war, and the King will need to interfere.

As if he had read my mind, regarding the King, Lord Steffon continued, “As we learned last week, the King has been rescued from Duskendale, and Lord Tywin is doing his utmost to secure the stability of the realm. Lord Tywin is an old friend of mine, dating back to the days of the Ninepenny King’s War, and I would appreciate it if you would keep the sound of laughter and merriment to a minimum. He hates such things.”

At that cheerful note, supper was served. Robert looked quite a bit sulky, although I could not tell if was from being called out by his father, from the prospect of being basically commanded to woo a 12 year old girl, or from the fact that Lord Tywin hates the sound of laughter. On the other hand, I believe I may have just seen Stannis smile.

Waking up the next day, Septa Mylla came into my room, and said, “Lady Jeyne, please prepare yourself to join Lord Steffon and his family in the courtyard as soon as possible. It seems that Lord Tywin and his children left early and will be arriving soon.” I did the best that I could, and made myself look presentable. My black and white dress looked fine, but my normally carefree long black hair was kept in place with a plait hastily assembled by one of my loaned ladies maids.

Walking out into the hallway, I saw Robert slipping out of his room, having done nothing to make himself look presentable, other than waking up and putting on armor to make it look as if he had come from the training yard.

 _Men_. Life was unfair.  The family and I assembled in the courtyard facing the opened gates, as Lord Tywin rode in.

Lord Tywin was a grim looking man, much like my own father, but I noticed as he arrived that he walked and rode with the air of a man aware of his own power and the impact that it had on others. His children followed behind, with his son and daughter both astride powerful looking coursers for horses, and he himself on a destrier.

Lord Steffon looked at us in a line, with me in between Lady Cassana and the maid who was holding young Renly. Renly was perhaps the quietest baby to have ever existed, and for that, everyone was thankful. Robert and Stannis, as usual, were jockeying for first position in line.

“Lord Steffon, I thank you for showing me this courtesy, but such formalities are unnecessary for friends such as us.” I noticed that Lord Tywin spoke the word “friends” with about as much interest and sincerity as I did when speaking to Septa Mylla about my needlework.

“I welcome you to my home nonetheless, Lord Tywin. My family greets you, as does my ward, Lady Jeyne Swann.”

Tywin seemed to stare each and every one of us down. When he arrived at me, I looked blankly at the castle walls to his left, not wanting to meet his gaze. The true power behind the throne stood before me, and the songs of his legendary abilities of authoritarian compulsion did him no credit.

“Very well, Lord Steffon. We should speak together in your solar”, Tywin said, before looking at his children, and saying, “Jaime, Cersei, you may wait for me here.”

Remembering Lord Steffon’s instructions, Robert went over to the pair of them and said, “Those are some fine horses you ride. Come along with me, and we’ll find a place for them in the stables while you are here.”

It was obvious that Robert was trying to be on his best behavior for most of the day. He had taken the Lannister twins to all the places he took Gulian and I when we too came to Storm’s End all those months prior. I could tell that he and the boy, Jaime, had really hit it off, by the time they had reached the training yard. We were walking, the five of us, towards the yard, when the topic of what we wanted to be growing up came up.

“So, you wanna be a member of the Kingsguard, eh? I suppose I too would like to have a life full of nothing but fighting battles and winning glory for the realm, although, uh, there are some things that I don’t think I could give up in order to obey my vows!” Robert said, full of energy.

“I know what you’re saying, Robert, but really, I am the firstborn son of a Lord Paramount, meaning that I will have to do nothing but deal with the tedium of resolving vassal disputes and reading raven messages all day long. I just want things to be simpler”, Jaime said, and the two of them shared a grin before Stannis helped to crack open the armory, where Robert got out his training hammer and shield, and Jaime picked up a training sword.

Before long, they were sparring in the yard, moving like water amongst and around each other as they tried to gain an advantage. I found it fascinating to watch this, as Robert had three years on the boy and was possibly the best one on one fighter I had ever seen, but this boy was holding his own and then some. It was just like when Gulian had been humbled by Robert when we came to Storm’s End, except that the pair were both displaying extreme feats of power and quickness while keeping up a spirited conversation.

“I feel the same way! The words just jump around the page when I try to read them. Numbers don’t do it like that for me, but Father doesn’t care, and just makes me keep reading, despite me never being able to take any of it in”, Jaime said, as he parried a hammer thrust.

“Well, its always been all dung for me with counting coppers, but Jeyne over there has been helping me with it as of late. Its still all hopeless, but hey, Maester Cressen doesn’t need to know who is actually doing my sums after all!” Robert said, pushed on his back foot again.

While the two heirs, with much more in common than perhaps any two men in the realm, continued to spar, I had sat off to the side with Stannis and Cersei. I didn’t know what to make of the girl, but she seemed to have been told that Robert was who she was to get to know. The fact that her brother had monopolized all of his time had clearly made her frustrated. She had acted deferential and lady like earlier, curtseying repeatedly when Robert had looked at her, and asking him politely about his progress in becoming a Knight.

“Probably quite soon, actually. Lord Arryn should dub me when I arrive there in a few days. I had squired for him at official events, and won some small melees at the Eyrie”, Robert had said. To be honest, I don’t think he cared much for being a Knight, but it allowed him something to lord over Stannis for a few years, and he probably loved that part.

Seeing an opening in her indifferent vigil of Robert and Jaime sparring, I sought to speak to her. Her hood had been pulled up loosely over her head, with blond locks falling all about her shoulders, while sitting on a bench in the shade of the training yard.

“So, Lady Cersei, have you enjoyed your time in the Stormlands so far?” I asked, trying to start some conversation.

Cersei looked at me, and appraised me in a manner similar to how her father had done earlier, before replying, “I suppose if you believe there is a charm in windy coastlines and acidic soil, than yes, it is quite beautiful here.”

“Well, yes, there is some harshness to our climate, I will admit. My native Stonehelm has more in the way of flat plains around it, but we too have the sea nearby.” I noticed that Cersei was ignoring me, and felt that I had to save the conversation. I did not want to make any relative of Lord Tywin upset with me.

 “I love how you have done your hair. It really brings out the color in your eyes”, I said, hoping she would be willing to talk to me about something. This was getting awkward.

 “It is often said that I am beautiful. Pardon me if I will not indulge in small talk with daughters of lesser lords” she said, with a sneer. Having seen the shocked look on my face, she continued, “Did they tell you to try to befriend me, or something? What need do I have of friends like you, when my father is Hand of the King?”

I really could not believe the nerve of this girl. Lesser Lords? My family had the second most men sworn to it in the Stormlands! We may not be the richest of houses, and yes, there is the fact that our local economy is reliant on the Free Cities continuing to batter each other into pieces year after year (not that it’s a bad investment, mind you), but this little… _brat_ , dares to condescend to me? If I was not aware that she and Robert may be matched up, I would have rearranged her face right then and there!

Stannis put his hand on my shoulder as he saw the look on my face when I was beginning to reply, “Why, you, who do you-“

“Lady Cersei, I will ask that you do not insult members of my household in presence. We all respect you and your family just fine”, Stannis coolly stated. He started walking me back to the guest tower, leaving Robert and Jaime to continue to spar, while Cersei stared at me with a vindictive glare of smugness. This is by no means over.

Stannis calmed me down for the next hour, talking to me of the Battle of the Kingsroad, in which his forbearer Borros Baratheon, foolishly left the safety of the walls of King’s Landing and engaged an army of Blacks when he had no reason or need to do so, and it had cost him his life. Perhaps he was trying to make me realize conflict with Lady Cersei would do me no good. Perhaps he was right. I was not in a reasonable mood, however. When I drew _Stabber_ from my sheath in my room, and strode out of the hall with a purpose, Stannis obviously assumed the worst and tried to restrain me.

I was no fool, however, and I merely wished to show Cersei up, rather than do anything that would cost me my head. Breaking free, I went back to the training yard, and holding my sword loosely in one hand, and asked loudly, once all stares were on me, “Jaime, could you instruct me in how to best counter the Dornish style? I very much would like to learn to defend myself in the occasion that a capable fighter like yourself is not near enough to defend me.”

Jaime replied, “Of course, Lady Jeyne, come here and I’ll get out a spear and we can begin.”

Robert in the meantime had gone over to Cersei, and the two of them appeared like they were having a very uncomfortable conversation. Perhaps it was best not to overdo this, as it might not even be necessary.

Before I could take another thought, however, Jaime was circling me with a long spear and shield, and instructing me on the proper guard to hold _Stabber_ with, to deflect spear thrusts and blunt end strikes. Jaime talked extensively of the importance of trying to decapitate the spear’s head, forcing the Dornishman to have to draw his short sword, against which I would have the advantage of reach. It was all a very interesting lesson, and truthfully, I figured that the odds of this boy becoming a Kingsguard were not insignificant after all, as any 12 year old who was this deadly and knowledgeable about fighting was not someone to take lightly.

However, it was time to put my plan into motion. With a sharp cry, I fell over on the ground while backtracking, and grabbed the lower part of my leg, with my training trousers bunching up on my ankle as I slipped my foot out of its shoe.

I had feigned an injury to my ankle, and hobbled over to a bench, my suspicions were confirmed. Jaime had come over to help me, but so did Robert, who seemed to be desirous of any excuse to get out of talking to Cersei. It was obvious that Cersei was close to her brother, and hated the attention he was paying me.

“It hurts! My ankle, I think that I have broken it!” I screamed out, before forcing some fake tears out from my eyes. If Father was here, he would tell me to suck it up and act like a true Marcher woman, but Father was not my intended audience.

“Jeyne, are you alright? Ah, damn, I’ve never seen you get all weepy like this before. Should I get Maester Cressen?” he asked, with concern written all over his face.

To the best of my ability, I feigned pain, and said, “It really hurts, Robert. Do you think you could just help Jaime to hold my ankle in a flat position? I just need your help-“

“Alright, of course!” he said, as he and Jaime held my ankle, which actually was swollen from me clumsily banging it into an entryway this morning in my rush to get out to the courtyard. I spent the next half hour like this, with the two boys helping to soothe me of the ‘oh so unbearable’ ankle pain by massaging the tendons on the instep of my leg.

Cersei probably sent an army’s worth of visual daggers my way, as Stannis tried futilely engaging her in conversation. Really, I felt that I was doing Robert a service here, as despite the fact that Cersei was unlikely to be matched with him, squashing that in the bud before anything could happen was best for all involved. Everything about her, from her sneering demeanor, to her prideful sense of self, spelled trouble.

I could not possible imagine her being the future Lady of Storm’s End. Based off of her treatment of me, how would she react to Robert having so many friends among the smallfolk? It would be a disaster.

As Robert and Jaime helped carry me from one bench to one under the shade, at my request, I was all the while I was making the appropriate expressions of pain at appropriate intervals, I gave Cersei a look that hopefully she would never forget. _Stay away from Robert, you bitch._

While laying on the bench, with my clothing a bit askew, Robert and Jaime had gone inside to find a poultice to put on my ankle. Cersei walked over, and sat on the bench. Or rather, sat on my ankle, and despite the fact that I had faked the injury, as she well knew, it still did hurt from banging it earlier. Cersei leaned over, and whispered in my ear, "One day, when I am Queen, and Rhaegar holds power, I will find you, Jeyne Swann, in whatever  pathetic little holdfast your father decides to sell you away to, and for you to do nothing but breed, and I will destroy you." At that, she got up and walked away. 

It seems that I had made an enemy today. There may not have been many chances for me growing up to make friends with girls my age growing up, other than the daughters of the servants at Stonehelm. But to be honest, perhaps girls weren't friendship material anyways. Perhaps I would never know. I could live with that. 

Lord Tywin and his children had departed soon after, and Robert seemed relieved that my ankle’s condition had drastically improved in a span of only a few hours. Or perhaps, he was relieved that he did not have to pretend to like the company of Cersei Lannister. She was beautiful, of course, and he probably liked that part of her. But he seemed eager to not have to talk to her at all. He was under obligation and all of that, at least to make an effort, but it hardly seemed like a real one. She certainly had her eyes on targets of higher rank than him, after all. Our feast at supper was a silent one, but Stannis was staring at me the entire time as if I was keeping some dark secret from him.

“What is it, Stannis?” I had asked.

“Nothing. I’m just glad that your ankle has healed so quickly. Almost a divine recovery, if I must say so myself” he said, and looked down at his food once more. Stannis was not a religious lad of any sort. His meaning was plain enough, I suppose. But he didn’t look displeased with me either. Sometimes he could be a strange one to interact with.  

A day later, Stannis and I accompanied Robert down to the docks on the side of the bleak cliffs of Storm’s End. The day was a beautiful one, and I wore the best dress that I owned, a black Pentoshi slip on that Father had given me for my 13th nameday, to walk down to the docks with him. The jutting fortress at our backs, the three of us walked down to the ship waiting below. Stannis was carrying some of Robert’s travel gear. I wanted to make a lasting impression, so I walked arm in arm with Robert the whole way.  

As Stannis helped to load the luggage onto his ship, I hugged Robert and pressed my head into his chest, and said, “Please don’t forget to send ravens here. I want to hear all about what you get up to.”

Robert laughed, and said, “I won’t forget, don’t worry. In fact, I’ll get Lord Arryn to write you as well for advice on dealing with those pesky Mountain clans.”

“I’d be happy to. I won’t forget to write you either”, I promised, hoping that he would at least remember me when he was there.

I gave him one last hug, and he stepped on board the transport cog, which set off from sail at an instant.

Stannis started back up the steps with his customary gloominess. I waited until the ship was almost out of sight and joined him.


	5. Precipitous Letters

**Jeyne, 278 AC, Storm’s End**

Two months had passed after Robert departed Storm’s End, and the year rolled into the next. My fifteenth name day was approaching in a matter of a few weeks. I had settled into a routine of sorts without Robert to keep me company. I went to my lessons, and passed time with Stannis every day in the afternoon under the shade of the solitary oak tree near the western side of the circular battlements. It was much like how things were at Stonehelm, except I at least still had one friend to share my loneliness with. We were much too old to play games such as Monsters-and-Maidens, not that Stannis was one who had much patience for games.

 Rather, we tested each other’s wits, and recited facts about the Dance of Dragons, or discussed how a Stormlander Army could use the double envelopment tactic in a battle against Crownlanders. Of course, seeing as the Targaryens never went to battle without the Crownlands on their side, Stannis felt our conversation drifted dangerously close to treason and asked that we not discuss such matters again.

I liked the boy and all, but he could be a little bit much at times.

On one such day, we had started to discuss the nature of Targaryen intermarriage and why the Faith did nothing to address such sacrilege, when Lady Cassana came up to the pair of us, with a few papers in her hand. She deposited the stack in my lap, and started to speak.

“Robert, in addition to your Father, it seems, have written to you, Jeyne. I have one for you inside, Stannis, as well. The ravens got here earlier today”, she said, before walking away with Stannis at her heels.  

I decided to read Robert’s letter first.

 _Dear Jeyne_ ,

                _There is much to tell you of! I got your letter last week about Stannis’s insistence on acting as if the King himself, or one of the Spider’s spies, were watching the pair of you at all times. Well, make sure you tell him, from me, that he should be more concerned about the stick that seems to have entrapped itself in his arse than any kind of “treasonous” discussion about the likelihood of Old Lord Rosby or one of the Goldcloak officers shitting themselves when faced with the might of Storm’s End! We both know that with me in command, and you at my side with that big Ghiscari book of yours about all of their wars, the battle would be over before it even started._

_Lord Arryn made it official, and I am now a Knight! I really didn’t pay much attention in the ceremony, but it seemed important to the other lads, so I guess you’ll have to call me Ser Robert now. At least, if you want to. I know that I must protect the weak (or is the meek? I’ll have to ask someone) and all of that, so I’ve gone a bit easy on Ned in the training yard as of late. He got really strong since I’ve last seen him, and as a result, because I was going easy on him, he knocked me down in a mock duel the other day. That’s the first time that its ever happened, so I guess, good for him. I don’t see much room for concern._

_I really wish you could visit here at some point, and meet all the lads, but more likely than not, they’ll see you at Storm’s End first, because of the tourney that we keep hearing so much of up in these parts. Strangely enough, Father has not written me of it. Since I am a Knight now, I guess I’ll have to join the lists for the joust. Truth be told, I’d rather be battering away at some tosspot with too many flowers on his armor using my hammer, but hey, I don’t make the rules. Royal tournaments have standards and all that nonsense. You’d probably be a better jouster than I, anyways. Ned thinks the whole thing is a frivolous waste of coin, but Father can manage, I think; besides, he’s a Stark, they probably use fur pelts for money up there anyways._

_Make sure you kill a boar for me every now and then. The mush brained buggers could use a harrying every now and then, even if I’m not around to give one!_

_Your Friend,_

_Ser Robert Baratheon_

The letter was without a doubt, Robert’s own hand. His carefree and lively worldview was something that I had missed around here this past month. I hope he’d write back with a little bit more frequency, but it warmed my spirit to read his words. He had not forgotten about me, and that was all that I needed to know.

Of course, the tourney had been announced yesterday, scheduled for four months in advance, and Lord Steffon was absolutely furious, as His Grace had made it quite clear that the tournament was mandatory, would be an expensive royal affair, and that Lord Steffon would pay for all of it. I had heard him muttering to himself things like “Aerys has changed, this cannot be the same man I knew” or “The treasury is brimming with gold, and yet he demands I pay for his wretched tourney”, or “Tywin knows better, and even he didn’t stop this”. If Robert had put this in his letter, and had likely written a few days ago, then they knew all the way up in the Vale about this tourney days before Lord Steffon, who would actually be hosting the tourney, much closer to the Capital, knew.  That seemed quite silly, to be honest, but I’m sure that His Grace had his reasons for doing so.

 I had re-read the document thrice before moving on to the one from Father.

_Daughter,_

_I hope you are in good health, and I write to you of a matter of some urgency. A week from now, I will be traveling up the Kingsroad to King’s Landing, before continuing on to the Twins, where Lord Walder has placed a large order of ballistae for fitting on his castle ramparts on both sides of the river._

_I will personally be there to help meet his specifications, due to my knowledge of the topic, and to collect payment for the installation._

_Lord Walder specifically wrote of you, and how he was interested in perhaps seeing if a match could be made between you and one of his sons. House Frey is almost a Great House in its own right, and are certainly one of wealth, power, and esteem. I will, along with Gulian, be there to see if a match that pleases both of our houses can be made._

_It is likely that Lord Walder will have other girls of noble birth there as well, from other families, to judge you side by side. This is known to be his way, despite the awkwardness of the situation. Nonetheless, I know that you will do us proud, and will do your duty._

_Please meet me at the keep of Lord Fell within a week of receiving this letter. His holdfast is adjacent to the Kingsroad. I am sure that Lord Steffon will not object._

_From,_

_Clifford Swann, Master-At-Arms for the Stormlands, Lord of Stonehelm_

I had never before left the Stormlands before, so this was somewhat exciting for me. I had no expectation that any of Lord Frey’s sons would want to marry me, not when other maidens were present, so I had no concerns on that front. Father likely had much to gain from this trip, if he was going himself to oversee the delivery. I missed my family, even if Storm’s End was much less isolating and bleak at times.

To be honest, much as I liked Stannis, and listening to Lady Cassana’s lessons, I had started to feel a bit restless in the last week. Robert was the one who always brought me out of my shell, and gave me something to be interested in, be it a new sword, a hunt, some funny new song that I would never dare sing aloud, or anything of the like.

There was also the fact that I found looking into his bright blue eyes and taking in his mirthful, but adorably dimpled face, an experience quite unlike any other. He had a tendency to put on the charm whenever he wanted something out of a woman, and it was quite disarming. Usually, on me at least, he used it to trick me while wrestling me to the ground out of nowhere. Because I would always laugh hysterically and ask him (but not really mean) to stop, he would of course continue. Stannis likely would have pulled a dagger on him if he tried wrestling, so I became Robert’s target as a result. Now that he was a Knight, I could call his behavior unchivalrous, but that probably wouldn’t make much of a difference. I would still find ways to rub his hard chest and bulging arm upper muscles while pretending to be pinned under his weight as we wrestled.

Recalling all of that brought a smile to my face as I got up from under the tree shade and walked onto the cobbled stones of the castle courtyard towards the main central tower. Lord Steffon’s solar was quite a walk up for me to get to, but I found him at his desk with a wearied look on his face, and his guard recognized me and let me in.

“My Lord, I have received a pair of messages from the latest arrival of ravens. I was wondering if-“

“Jeyne, what are you doing here?” Lord Steffon asked, seemingly lost in his train of thought and forgetting that I had just entered the room and curtseyed in front of him.

“I’m sorry if this is a bad time, my Lord”, I said, realizing he was probably frustrated over something. I twirled a strand of my black hair in my discomfort, as Lord Steffon rose from his seat and rubbed his eyes.

“No, you did nothing wrong, Jeyne. The King’s royal whims are likely going to cost me almost a year of income with this preposterous tourney that he has commanded me to put on in a few months, and I have spent the last day composing messages to bannermen in arrears to pay up, as well as ordering the equipment needed to make sure the tournament is a success, and we all keep our heads.”

Lord Steffon said the last part with some clear apprehension, and I wondered if he was being as glib as I hoped he was.

“I am sorry to hear of it, my Lord. I came here to inform you that Robert had written me to tell of his new Knighthood, and that he would be entering the lists for the joust at your Tournament-“

“The **King’s** tournament, Jeyne, not my own. Continue.”

“Very well, my Lord. Robert wants to enter the joust, even though he admits the melee is more of his area of expertise. I found it curious that he wrote of this, knowing that Storm’s End only heard of yo-, I mean, the King’s tournament, yesterday. It takes a raven a few days to get from the Eyrie to Storm’s End based off of a maester’s map, and it takes Robert a bit of time to write things. I just found that strange.”

“Well, so do I, Jeyne. I believe the King has grown paranoid, and will release information about things in a way that tends to leave the man affected most, out of the loop. Lord Tywin told me of such patterns when he and his children visited.”

Lord Steffon looked quite distraught at this, and I was unsure of how to bridge the conversation to the next point. We shared an awkward minute or so of silence, before he continued, “Is there something else you want to discuss with me, Jeyne?” in a cracked and strained tone.

“Yes, my Lord. My father has written to tell me to meet him at Fawnton in a few days, so that he can take me along to the Twins where he has business to do with Lord Frey. I believe he wishes me to become acquainted with one of Lord Frey’s sons” I said, hoping he would quickly understand.

“Well, by all means, I will not impede you from leaving my household for a spell. You may take that mare in the stables that you are so fond of riding along with you, provided a few of my guardsmen come along until you reach Fawnton”, he said, seemingly brightened by the prospect of organizing something other than a wasteful tournament.

“Oh, and please tell Lord Fell to pay me those 437 gold dragons he owes me when you see him. If he disputes it, remind him that he is fortunate not to be paying interest.”

“Thank you, my Lord, I will,” I said, before departing his solar. At supper that night, Lady Cassana was giving me all kinds of smirking looks that she was hoping I would be able to interpret. I told Stannis that I would be leaving in the morning, and the grunt of recognition that he made while chewing on his bread was indeed quite touching.

Lady Cassana came up to me as I was leaving the table, and said, “I would like to speak with you in our usual place in a few minutes.” She had a smile on her face, and I wondered what this could possibly be about.

I asked, “Should I bring along Septa Mylla, like normal?”

“No, I do not believe that will be necessary.” Okay, I was a bit suspicious of what was going on here. Lady Cassana had never asked me to attend to her after supper before, and hardly ever spoke to me while alone. But she seemed in a good mood, so I came along nonetheless.

I sat down at my usual chair, with my loose dress bunching around my hips, as Lady Cassana brought out a book from a box she was carrying.

“Now, having never had a daughter of my own, I’ve never been in the position to give advice like this, Jeyne, but my lord husband has spoken to me of your impending trip to see one, or possibly many, suitors.”

I froze up when I heard her say this. She could not seriously be hoping to have _that_ talk, could she? My own mother had been very sick when I had gotten my first moon’s blood, and had been bedridden for years with her wasting sickness, but Father had manfully stepped up to his duty and told me the mechanics of what it was that I needed to know. It is likely that he would have rather attempted to fight against flesh eating scorpion packs, or feast with a member of House Wyl or Yronwood, than tell me about my womanly duties in the marriage bed, but he got the job done anyways.

I had no wish to go over that experience again. Looking at the book on the table, titled _The Way of the Seven Sighs, and the Sixteen Seats of Pleasure_ , I had a feeling that this was not going to be much better.

Seeing the look on my face, Lady Cassana laughed, and said, “Ignore that Essosi tome for now. That will be for you when you feel ready”, before continuing, “While it is more likely than not that you will not get to choose your husband, perhaps there is something you can do to make one of the men fortunate enough to make your acquaintance a bit more, shall we say, eager, to move things along.”

“Lucky enough for you, the Gods have seemed to bless you with a pleasant appearance. Your figure is thin, although not overly so. Your face is kindly looking, and that long black hair of yours frames it in a way that brings out the green in your eyes more distinctively.”

I felt a little bit uncomfortable at her description of my appearance. While I was likely seen by most to be attractive, I didn’t really feel that way inside all the time.

Lady Cassana then asked, “Now, have you ever had suitors call upon you before?”

I replied, “Lord Tarly’s son, Randyll, had visited Stonehelm when I first bled. I think some old rivalry between my father and Lord Tarly had quashed anything from happening at the start, though. He seemed about as uncomfortable as I was.”

“Any others, Jeyne?”

I thought about it for a moment, and then said, “I suppose this might count. When I had my 14th nameday, almost a year ago, Lord Horton Redfort stayed at Stonehelm for a night. He had asked Father if they could discuss a betrothal, as Lord Horton had been widowed twice, and was looking for a new wife. However, Father kept telling him to stop dropping his eyes when he looked at me, and the whole thing fell apart. I had remembered all of my courtesies for a change, but Septa Mylla would not tell me what I had done wrong.”

Lady Cassana started laughing, and I could not find humor in the situation at all. Perhaps there was something wrong with me, and that suitors could not look me in the eye while I curtseyed or spoke of my respect for their rank and family lineage.

“Jeyne, you are of course aware that he was staring at your breasts, correct?”

“Of course I knew that!” I argued. “But I do not see why that would be a bad thing! Surely, most men would desire a wife with, um, what I have!” There was much that bothering me at this moment, but I had always felt that if anything, my breasts would be a positive, not a negative, in landing a match.

“Yes, but they are not supposed to do that when they first meet you!” she replied. “I see now that perhaps you will not have any issues getting the attention of suitors.”

“That being said” she continued, “we should discuss proper conduct when brought before a man, as is likely to happen when you depart to the Twins.”

For the next hour, Lady Cassana went over what to say, what never to say, and how smart I should act (very smart, with memorized double account ledger entries on the tip of my tongue, when speaking alone with the suitor’s maester or Septon; not very smart, when speaking to the suitor, as such things are threatening to them). She said I should definitely not bring the sword that Robert had bought me (though I surely would bring it on the road, if for no other reason than to brag to Gulian), and I should not mention boys that I was friends with like Robert and Stannis.

There were a lot of rules that I really didn’t understand, like making sure to complement their holdfast as often as possible (after all, if they lived in a pile of dung, they should I think not want to for much longer), and to laugh and tell them that they are oh so funny, and pat them on the arm, even if they are not funny, as well as to not overindulge in wine if we were seated near each other for a meal.

I committed this to memory as best I could, and Lady Cassana’s kindly face shone as I began picking up the basics of what she wanted me to know. Really, sometimes, I felt as if these lessons from her were more about her fulfilling a desire to raise a girl, but I got a lot out of them as well.

Before I went to sleep that night, I took a peak into that book that she had left for me. I found it a deeply engrossing topic, and dreamt that night of putting some of those topics to practical use with a certain part-time occupant of this castle.  

As day broke, and I dressed and packed for travel, I made sure to wear my sword, and keep that particular book under wraps in my travel trunk, before going out to meet the guardsmen and get on my horse.


	6. The Kingsroad

**Jeyne, 278 AC, Misty Wood Forest**

Felwood would have been a few hours long of a ride from Storm’s End at most, had the terrain been more forgiving. Instead, I tilted the reins of my mare leftwards to negotiate a corner in this impenetrable forest path as Eldon and Ryp, the two guardsmen that Lord Steffon had sent along with me, trundled behind me on a perilous trail that was beginning to grow less and less visible. I had no knowledge of the geography of this area specifically, deep as it was inside a forest that most never dared to enter.

“Eldon, do you know exactly how far it is to Felwood from here?” I asked, hoping that Lord Steffon’s guards would have taken this route before.

“Shouldn’t be any more than three leagues, milady” he said. So it seemed that we were close, after all. The tree branches in this area seemed to droop down to the ground, and the water below ground seeped up, creating a thick and noxious air in which to breathe, and amplifying the sound of the bugs. This would be a mess to keep an army together in, I thought. The flux would take many a man.

It was at that point that I recalled we were actually in the Misty Wood, specifically at the Black Bog, where the Andals had once suffered a sharp defeat at the hands of the First Men and their barbaric dark “child” allies. Obviously, we had taken a wrong turn, and rather than follow the coast as we should have until we met the Kingsroad, we tried to take a short cut, and it had gone poorly.

Of far more concern to me in the meantime was what had happened to my dress, torn and shorn at multiple points along my legs, and having been soaked by the moisture from the trees. It was a good thing that I was merely meeting Father today, as otherwise, the minstrels would have made songs of my embarrassment in turning up like a drenched rat to the halls of a suitor.

I drew my sword to cut a vine that had fallen in our path, before we continued on.

“So, milady, where did you get a sword like that?” Eldon asked, seemingly stupefied by the bright glint emanating from its pommel. I answered as the light at the end of the forest bog became visible.

“It was a gift, actually, from Lord Steffon’s son, Robert. He had it forged for me before departing for the Vale”, I answered, with no small amount of satisfaction in my voice.

“Well, it’s a right beauty of a sword, that it is”, said Ryp, before continuing, “Although Robert never struck me as one to give gifts to his friends, or swords as gifts, for that matter.”

“Well, he told me the day that the order was placed that I was one of his best friends”, I replied, still self-assured in my demeanor. I sure hope Robert wasn’t forging swords for every girl who he met, at least. It’s likely he could never afford it, anyways. Good steel does not come cheap.

“Well, I’m glad for you, milady, truly. But please tell him to take it easy in the training yard from now on, if you will. Perhaps he’d listen to a best friend of his, as I am tired of taking a bruise the size of a dragon egg on me chest every time we spar.”

“I’ll be sure to pass along the message, Ryp. But perhaps you should focus on keeping your guard up so that it does not happen again”, I replied. Eldon started chuckling at him, and the trail out of the forest seemed to lead to an average sized castle about a league in the distance away.

Eldon looked at the banner atop the castle, and said, “A moon crescent set against the forest below. That would be Lord Fell’s banner. It seems that we have done our duty, Ryp. Felwood lies ahead, milady.”

“I thank you for helping me to this castle after the unfortunate misstep to not hit the Kingsroad. I will surely thank Lord Steffon for your service to me”, I said.

“No problem, milady, you were an interesting lass to bring along, no doubt about that”, Ryp said with a smile, and the two of them turned and went back into the forest.

I had my trunk packed on the back of my horse, and no doubt, she had felt the weight getting to her for quite a while now, as she took longer than needed to walk over a small stream. The ground turned into a green, rolling field with a singular dirt path that led up to the castle. Arriving at the castle some minutes later, I noticed that the guards on the ramparts were hardly paying attention as I was let in the gate. Perhaps Lord Fell was not aware that I would be meeting my family there.

“Halt! State your business”, the guard at the gate said.

“I’m Lady Jeyne Swann, coming to meet my family here. Lord Clifford Swann should arrive sometime in the next few days.”

“Alright, ah, wait a moment” said the guard, as he walked through a side door near the portcullis. I was a bit annoyed at my treatment, but said nothing.

The guard returned and gestured for the gate to be opened. I rode in, and was directed to a hitching post for my horse. I was greeted by the sight of a paunchy looking man with thinning grey hair, who introduced himself as Lord Fell.

“I thank you for your hospitality, Lord Fell. I had thought that Father would have arrived by now, but I see that is not the case”, I said, hedging that something had gone amiss.

“You are correct, Jeyne, in that he has not arrived yet. Apparently, one of the spokes on the carriage holding one of the ballistae splintered, and they will be repairing it through the night. Lord Swann should be here tomorrow, however”, he said, before continuing, “You are welcome to our hospitality, of course.”

I had my trunk taken to a guest room, and joined Lord Fell for dinner that night. His son, a burly lad my age who everyone kept referring to as “Silveraxe”, likely because of his shockingly silver hair and the fact that he carried a formidable looking axe on him wherever he went, sat next to me, and questioned me about Storm’s End without relent.

“Father has always wanted me to squire for Lord Steffon, but it has never come about to much of anything. Instead, I think I’ll manage on my own for a few years, and get a Knighthood at some tourney.”

“Well, there is one at Storm’s End in a few months. Perhaps you could try your luck then?” I replied.

Silveraxe took a large swill of ale before continuing, “Yeah, they won’t know what hit them in the melee!”, before spending several minutes talking to me about his prowess in single combat and how he would one day show everyone not to meddle with Lord Fell’s hunting grounds. This topic was a tense one, as it seemed that members of the Royal court frequently rode far enough south into the Kingswood, where they made a general nuisance of themselves and crossed into Lord Fell’s land. I imagined that Lord Steffon would like to hear of this when I returned.

Felwood was not a wealthy holding, that much was sure, I thought, as I laid down to sleep for the night. Their lady’s maid that saw to my lodgings tried her best, but Lord Fell clearly was not used to having visitors stay at Felwood, and I could tell by the marks on the wall that they used this room for weapon storage more often than not. I woke the next day and quickly packed my belongings for the journey north, thanking Lord Fell on my way out, and asking him to send my horse, along with the money he owed Lord Steffon, to Storm’s End at once.

Father, Gulian, and our household master-at-arms, Ser Robyn, were waiting outside the gates, and seemingly had traveled through the night. My trunk had been brought to Father’s carriage, where he sat with a depressed countenance (an old war wound from the War of the Ninepenny Kings had made long distance riding for him harder with age), but his face seemingly brightened as he saw me approach.

“Father, it is good to see you again!” I said, with some enthusiasm, before turning to greet Gulian and Ser Robyn. I noticed that around 100 Swann Men-At-Arms were marching up the Kingsroad, which ran astride the western side of Felwood, and four ballistae were being hauled on four large carts by some of the men.

“Same to you, Jeyne. We have not slept for a day now, but I’d like to get over the Blackwater and into King’s Landing before nightfall”, he said. I noticed that Gulian seemed to be on the verge of falling out of his saddle, and had a glazed over look on his face.

“I am sorry to hear it. I’d be willing to ride, and let Gulian sit in the carriage instead, if you so wish-“

“No!” he interrupted, “Gulian needs to get used to the hardships of command. It was noble of you to offer, Jeyne, but I’d like to speak with you in the carriage, anyways.”

I climbed in the carriage at his invitation, and once the guard had caught up, we lurched northward up the Kingsroad. The forest of the Misty Wood fell out of sight, and for the next hour, I told Father all about Storm’s End. I tried to keep the discussion focused mostly on my lessons, and less on all of the fun I had been having with Robert and Stannis.

“-and so Lady Cassana taught me about how to attract a suitor, and left me with a most unladylike book from Essos that I was supposed to only open when I felt ready, but I think that I have got the general hang of it”, I said. Father looked pleased, but also a little bit concerned.

“It seems as if you have learned quite a bit as Lord Steffon’s ward. I am sorry that I could not have made life at home all that it should have been”, he said.

“Do not fret it, Father. I still remember all that you have taught me, and will always love Stonehelm. After all, there are no mountains at Storm’s End, and the sunsets are not as pleasing as a result”, I replied. I had actually thought of this quite a bit as of late, and specifically about how Robert would love to a Stonehelm sunset, as the light glanced across the Red Mountains and the air stirred with the power of armies long gone who had marched west to defend the Boneway.

Robert would probably think the way the sky looked ablaze yet purple at the same time, made for a great chance to break out into a crass song, and he’d probably try to put me into a headlock and hold me against him as I tried to tell him about the history of Stonehelm. He’d likely forget all about it the next day, and ask me the same questions again, and I would-

_I’m doing it again._

I had realized that I had dozed off for a few minutes, lost in my daydream. Father had in the meantime asked the driver to speed it up a bit, as the Kingswood came into view. Blackwater Rush should not be more than 15 leagues from here, I thought. Father had glanced at my waist, and noticed that my sword was sheathed and hanging below.

“Jeyne, whose sword is that?” he asked. I forgot that I was wearing it, and cursed myself internally. I was not sure what Father would think of me carrying one.

“Ah, that would be mine, Father. It was a gift from Robert”, I said, as I drew it from its sheath. Father was taken aback when he saw it in its full length.

“That is, um,” he started, “a very good sword, Jeyne. Very good indeed. A pommel with our house sigil, top quality steel, a handguard....” Father seemed a bit lost for words. He gathered himself, before continuing, “Just please do not show that to Gulian, or anyone we meet on the way. I have to ask, however, why are you carrying a sword with you?”

“I just felt it was good to have in case, Father. Stannis and Robert have been helping me to learn how to use it, and these roads can be dangerous, and I didn’t want to leave _Stabber_ in Storm’s End for Septa Mylla to try and hide it-“

“Jeyne, she is just looking out for you”, he said, with a stern tone in his voice. “I would never tell you not to wield one, although I worry about getting the wrong kind of attention for you.”

“I will try to stay inconspicuous as always, Father”, I replied, knowing that he would appreciate an attempt at modesty.

He appraised me for a second, and we settled into a nice silence for most of the way through the Kingswood. I could tell there was more on his tongue, but I tried my best to look out the window for most of the time. The woods here were quite beautiful, and not nearly as foreboding as the Misty Wood. There were tall oak trees, and clear running streams, without the vines and brackish water running throughout. I could see why Silveraxe was annoyed that lands that he considered to be his house’s lands were constantly having their boundaries tested. Truthfully, I found Silveraxe’s claim to be a poor one, and I knew that most of these lands actually did belong to the royal demesne, but he seemed quite set in his beliefs.

Father had been chewing on his lip for some time, and seemed as if he was going to have something to say soon. I did not want to be caught off guard, so I asked, “Is there something you wished to ask me, Father?”

He delayed for a moment, before saying, “I would like you to be completely honest with me, Jeyne, as I cannot in good conscience bring you to the Twins unless I know for a fact.”

“Of course, Father. What is it you need to know?” I asked, growing steadily uncomfortable.

“Jeyne, is your maidenhead intact?”

I was completely shocked, and taken by surprise, when he asked that. Of course it was, I was unmarried and my fifteenth name day was coming up in a few days. But Father knew that my love of horseback riding was there, and as for my actual maidenhead, I had not had that for two years now, for reasons that would bring no shame to the family. I lost it when I was bucked out of my saddle while riding in Stonehelm.

“Father, you know the answer to that. You were the one who picked me up in the courtyard when I had been thrown from my horse, and you saw the blood”, I replied, with indignation in my voice.

Father raised his voice a bit, and said, “You know exactly what I meant by that. I need to know right now if our House has been dishonored, or not!”

“No! Of course not! I wouldn’t-, I’m not-, urgh!” I grunted out. “Father, what reason do you have to think that I-“

“I’m not stupid. You are clearly an attractive girl, and I think you know that, so you probably aren’t starved for attention. Your two best friends are lads in the age group where every serving girl in the castle becomes a personal temptation for them. Your teacher at Storm’s End is sharpening your feminine wiles, and you are having daydreams in the carriage in which you moan out loud!”

“Father, I-“

“And that sword! It was given to you by the most notorious young rake in the Stormlands, who seems to be your new best friend! What else am I supposed to think?” he thundered.

“I swear to you, I’ve done nothing of the sort! Robert does not notice me in that way, and Stannis is more prudish than anyone I’ve ever met. I would not betray you in that manner!”

I was growing quite distressed, and tears were threatening to burst forth. Father had no right to accuse me of such behavior, and while I admit that things probably didn’t look good from his end, I had hoped he would have more confidence and esteem for me.

“Jeyne, I-

“I’ve always obeyed you, to the letter, and Gulian out there ignores you out of spite, and purposely does whatever it is that you do not want, and you accuse ME of bringing dishonor to House Swann?” I shot back. Real tears were welling up in my eyes now, and my vision began to blur.

“I believe you, Jeyne. But do not act as if I had no reason to ask. Anyone else in that situation, and, well, what would you think?”

“Father, you know me. That should be enough.”

I sat in silence after that, and would look out the window for the rest of the trip into King’s Landing. Perhaps he had needed to ask, as we were after all going to be in the Twins in a few days, and if I had behaved in an unchaste manner, they would not take me seriously in the negotiations (not that I thought I would be taken seriously, anyways). But it did not take the sting out of the conversation. Father and I had never before had a truly cross word between us, and I had always thought that I was his favorite child.

As our carriage crossed onto the Goldroad temporarily, so that we could cross Blackwater Rush, I figured that I should put this unpleasantness behind us before we reached King’s Landing.

“Father, I apologize for losing my composure earlier. You must know that I will never deceive you, or be less than truthful.” I had no reason to apologize to Father, but I figured it would at least be a gesture towards reconciliation.

“Jeyne, I believe you. I needed to be sure, however. Let us speak no more of this.”

He probably did regret it, to some degree, and I was glad that we could put it past us. Perhaps he was embarrassed for making such an accusation. What gnawed at me inside is the notion that he assumed that Robert and I were lovers.

I had certainly had enough daydreams, one of which embarrassingly occurred inside the carriage earlier, in which such a scenario was realized. I had also given Robert my favor, which he still wore around his arm, as a promise not to sail off to Essos to go plundering without at least talking to me about it first. I knew that the odds of me marrying him were nonexistent, seeing as he was the son of a Lord Paramount and likely would marry a daughter of similar rank. But despite that, I couldn’t see myself marrying another man.

Such foolish notions should never have entered my thoughts, I know. After all, King’s Landing was coming into view, with the prominent glare of the Red Keep upon the Hill of Aegon the first thing on the horizon. We would pay our respects to the Royal family, after spending the night at a property owned by the Hand, Lord Tywin, whom Father knew well from the war.

The rumors of His Grace’s temperament were by no means encouraging. I needed to be at the top of my performance, and be ready for anything.


	7. An Unsettling Visit

**Jeyne, 278 AC, King’s Landing**

The first thing I noticed was the smell, as their carriage came in through the River Gate that stood astride from Blackwater Rush. The odor of King’s Landing was distinctly foul, and probably had much to do with the open sewer that ran through Flea Bottom and eventually into the sea. I looked at Father with some expectation of an explanation, or something, as this was becoming intolerable.

As I put a handkerchief over my face and gagged, Father said, “The last time I was in the capital, I was returning from the Stepstones at the head of our levies, and Lord Steffon had just seen his Father die before his eyes in battle. If you think this is bad, bear in mind what it would be like at the head of 3500 men with festering wounds and a shocking lack of latrine discipline.”

The thought of that only made things worse, to be honest, but I suppose he had a point. I composed myself as our carriage rode along into the streets that led up to the Red Keep. The city was vibrant and colorful in a way that I had never seen before, and the sheer amount of commerce that permeated the city, from the fishmongers near the wharf to the charlatans peddling Targaryen “relics” on the Hook road that led to the Red Keep, was astounding.

“Is the city always this busy, Father?”

“Keep in mind the population differences, Jeyne. A half a million souls live within the walls of King’s Landing”, he said, as our carriage ascended towards the Keep. I could see the gate about a half a league ahead. The amount of armed guards here was almost unnerving. Dragon printed shields, with men bearing spears behind them, absolutely littered the road we were on.

Father too looked perplexed at this, and muttered to himself something about the dragons never failing to remind everyone who was in charge.

“Lord Steffon mentioned something about the King becoming more concerned after the events at Duskendale. Perhaps this is normal, these displays”, I ventured out loud.

Father grunted in acknowledgement of that, and then called out the window of the carriage, “Gulian! I’m going to need you to ride ahead and inform the guard of our arrival.”

Gulian rode ahead, and we were able to pass the gate without incident.

I checked over my dress and made sure that no bits of fabric were torn or hanging in an improper manner, before holding a mirror from my trunk up to make sure my hair was in place. The best part of having black and wavy hair was that it seemed to almost shine in the sunlight at times, and that made up for my lack of jewels and other bits of finery that our house did not possess. For once, it seemed as if I had lucked out! Nothing that would displease Septa Mylla, at least. She might have a word about my dress, which showed more leg than it should, but that was more because I had grown three hands in the last few years, and this was a present from Mother when she was still alive.

Father pushed open the door, before gingerly exiting the carriage. He helped me down, and then looked at me as if I had forgotten to wear clothes. He whispered, “ _Jeyne_! Your sword!” before maneuvering in front of me. I pushed _Stabber_ back into the carriage, thinking that if I had forgotten something so basic, this could be a very difficult experience for us all.

I quickly stood at Father’s side, as Gulian dismounted and one of the guardsmen took his horse to the stables. At this moment, I was greeted by the sight of Lord Tywin, along with a weedy looking man in a grey cloak, and a familiar face known to our family, Jon Connington, who I had known since my fifth nameday.

“Lord Clifford, I take it your journey went well,” began Lord Tywin. A few armed men bearing Lannister colors came forward and took most of our baggage from the carriage, before putting it in a cart and walking off towards a toward to our west. “My men will take your things to the Tower of the Hand, where you will be staying tonight.”

“Thank you, my Lord. We ran into some trouble on the Kingsroad with a broken cart, but it delayed us only a night”, Father replied.

“Well, nonetheless, the King is will be holding court for a few more hours, and your audience will come soon. As for those men at arms”, Lord Tywin said, gesturing to our 100 man escort waiting at the base of the Red Keep, who had our ballistae, “there will be quarters for them in the city. Let us not delay.”

Father and Gulian began walking with Lord Tywin and the man in the grey cloak, who introduced himself as the Master of Coin, Qarlton Chelsted, and I fell in alongside Jon.

“Good to see you again, Jeyne. I had heard you were staying with the Baratheons now”, said Jon. I had always liked him whenever we had been pushed together at some event or another, as he tended to take Gulian down a peg or two whenever he could. He was now apparently a good friend to Prince Rhaegar, as I had heard.

“Yes, I have. It’s been wonderful so far, but Father is going to try to find me a match with a Frey”, I replied.

“You don’t sound so enthused about that.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll see what happens”, I replied, not wanting to go too far into such a topic. We talked about the differences in life at Storm’s End and King’s Landing for a while, as Lord Tywin led us through the halls and courtyards of the Red Keep.

As we crossed an entryway into a cavernous building, I noticed with a shock the massive skulls of what I assumed to be dragons, looking sinisterly at me as I walked. Perhaps the royal family used them to intimidate courtiers, but it did not seem as if court was really all that busy today. There was a group of perhaps 100 or so people milling about the room, but that was it.

Lord Tywin said, “Your Grace, I present to you Lord Clifford Swann and his two children, Gulian and Jeyne.”

The crowd parted, and I, along with Father and Gulian, knelt where I stood. I did not get a good look at the King, but I could see Jon walk past me towards the head of the large room.

“Lord Swann, we are happy to welcome you to the Red Keep. Please make use of our hospitality before dinner tonight”, said someone from the vicinity of the throne.

“Lord Swann is an old friend of mine, your Grace. Perhaps you too remember him from our time in the Stepstones?”

A chilled voice called out, “Yes, yes, Tywin, bring your friends before me and impress me with your connections, I know the game you play!”

_What?!?_

I raised my head just enough to take a look at the King and those near the throne. Just as the books had said, it was an iron monstrosity that looked as if it was used for torturing enemies of the realm through impalement. The man who sat on it slouched, and he had an angry look on his face, which stretched his features to an uncomfortable looking expression verging on pain. I had always heard our King was a handsome man, but his long fingernails resembled claws, and his angry complexion did him no favors.

To his right, a young man with long silver hair stood, and he appeared to be embarrassed at the scene before him. I figured it was the King’s heir, Rhaegar. Members of the Kingsguard stood around the pair of them, given away by their white cloaks.

“Your Grace, my children and I come to pay our respects before we depart north to meet Lord Frey. I am honored to be here before you”, Father said, standing as if it would take the attention off of that awkward exchange before.

“Very well, Lord Swann”, the King said, before continuing, “Your children may rise.” Gulian and I stood up and looked at the King. Gulian seemed to be deeply rattled by the events unfolding, and perhaps subconsciously positioned himself behind me. The King looked us over before beginning to speak once more.

“You know, I do remember you, know that I think of it. You were the one who commanded that reserve Pike formation when the Tyroshi cavalry attacked! Ha!”

“Indeed I did, your Grace”, Father replied.

“We must speak of this at the meal later on. Perhaps you and your children will give me a rest from the insufferable babblings of my own”, the King said, before gesturing for the next person to be brought forward.

We stood and began to walk to the rear of the hall, as the courtiers around us stared. I noticed that some of them were whispering to each other while staring at the three of us as we made way for a group of men walking towards the King.

One of the royal heralds called out that a traitor to the realm was being brought before the King, and I heard Lord Tywin mutter, “Another one?”, as Father grabbed Gulian and I and started walking quickly out the entryway into the hall outside.

“Father, what was that about?” Gulian said, clearly frightened by what had just occurred.

“Gulian, you will say nothing for as long as we are here!” Father said, with agitation in his voice, as Gulian had confusion written all over his face. He continued to drag the two of us farther from the Throne Room, and I saw Jon Connington following the three of us out to the courtyard.

“But, his Grace, what-“

“Nothing. Say nothing, and we will discuss this tomorrow.”

“But-“

Father shook Gulian with a fury and pulled him close before spitting out, “I saw the way you hid behind your sister in there! You should be ashamed of yourself. If I have to tell you to-

A loud and prolonged scream of agony ripped out from the Throne Room, with a cacophony of noise coming afterwards that sounded suspiciously like laughter. The three of us stopped and looked back, not knowing what to say after that.

“I see you have heard the King’s justice being carried out.”

I looked over to the source of the voice, and it was Jon Connington again. His red hair stood out in contrast to the stone wall behind him, and had a smirk worn prominently on his face.

“You’re Armond’s son, right?” Father said. Jon nodded, before walking over to the three of us. “Is His Grace usually in this kind of state?”

“Well, it depends on who you ask. But that ‘traitor to the realm’ in the throne room, he’d probably say the King is in a very good mood. After all, he was merely run through for his crimes, which most likely were pickpocketing or something of the like. Others have found a worse end”, he said, with a dark look on his face.

The four of us milled around the courtyard for a few hours after that, awaiting meeting the King and some other Crownland nobles at supper. Jon spoke to me at length about all of the training and riding he had been doing with the Prince as of late, with a tone that betrayed no small amount of admiration for Rhaegar, and I tried to keep the conversation on any topic possible that had nothing to do what had just occurred in the Throne room. The King terrified me, and I wasn’t sure what I could say that would trouble for myself.

We were ushered into a mighty looking fortress, no doubt being Maegor’s Holdfast, where the King and some of the assembled courtiers I had seen earlier were sitting. To his right, again, was the Prince. I was escorted by a guard to a spot right next to the Queen, a frail looking woman who sat to the King’s left. I had not seen where Gulian or Father were sitting, but I assumed it on Rhaegar’s side of the table, as I instantly heard Father and the King discussing their time in the war together. Wine was carried out and given to everyone at the table.

I remembered Lady Cassana’s lessons, and decided to let mine sit, rather than risk embarrassing myself in some way. Queen Rhaella looked over at me when the first dish was brought out, and seemed to be working herself up to ask a question.

“So, Jeyne, I hear you are fostered at Storm’s End?”

“You are correct, your Grace. Lord Steffon and his family have been very kind to me”, I replied.

“I was meaning to ask about him. Steffon never writes me anymore, but we were very close growing up. I remember Storm’s End quite fondly. Tell me, have they gotten around to renovating the guest tower yet?” she said, with a small smile on her face. Sadly, I did know of what she spoke of.

“No, your Grace, they have not, if you are referring to the hole in the stairway that makes those howling noises whenever the wind blows-“

“Which is, of course, all of the time!”, she said, with a laugh. It seemed that being royalty did not give guests at Storm’s End a way out of that situation. Perhaps I should try to patch that up myself one of these days. Stannis would take it as an engineering challenge, and would love to help out.

The Queen was a very nice woman, and she seemed to have a lot of interest in the Baratheon family. We spoke together for most of the meal, but I noticed that she seemed to deflate whenever her husband put his clawed hand on her arm. It almost looked as if he was digging into her flesh, but she said nothing the whole time. It was definitely not my place to say anything, but what I saw was not healthy at all.

The King joined the conversation as the lampreys were taken away, and I felt nervous as he looked over at me and said, “So, girl, Lord Steffon must have spoken of me to you at some point. Did he tell you of some of the things we did growing up?”

Put on the spot like that, I briefly chewed over my words before replying, “Lord Steffon has always spoken of you fondly, and was most pleased to hear of your rescue from Duskendale-

“Rescue? Is that what he said? The might of the dragon does not-

“Father, she merely misspoke. I don’t believe that your cousin believes any such thing”, said the Prince. He looked quite distressed, and sad at the same time, as the King worked himself into a lather of anger. The Queen stared at me with a somber intensity, and swept a strand of her silver hair behind her ear as she tried to seemingly will me into taking back what I said. She looked almost as if she was to cry.

“Your Grace, I apologize for my choice of words. Lord Steffon of course spoke of your victory over the rebellious knaves in Duskendale with joy, and toasted your name at supper when he heard the news. In fact, he is very excited to be hosting that royal tournament in a few months, and hopes you will be pleased by his efforts.”

I hope that I repaired the damaged I had caused, as I noticed Father had turned to look at me from his seat with some concern. Gulian seemed incredibly interested with a fowl bone that he turned around his plate repeatedly, and tried to chop it with a spoon.

“Now that sounds more like the Steffon I know”, the King said, with a proud look on his face. He continued, “Rhaegar here needs a wife soon, and I was planning on sending Steffon to the Free Cities to find a Valyrian for him. The Velaryon line has been tainted as of late with women with sickly dispositions, and my wife has not done her duty and given me a daughter as of yet for him.”

I was sure that Lord Steffon would react to this news, when it came, with a great deal of cursing and shouting, but I didn’t think mentioning that would help the situation.

The King once more dug his hand into her arm, and whispered to the Queen, “We shall attempt to remedy this tonight, one way or another”, and I could see her shudder in fear. Perhaps some things were better left unseen, but the King was not making that an option for me. Lord Steffon did not ever behave in such a manner with his lady wife, and my Father had hardly spoken to Mother when she still lived, but he never treated her in such a way.

I resolved that if my husband would act that way with me, no matter if he was a Frey or a Wildling or anything of the sort, and I would not accept or put up with that, not if my husband was to remain ungelded.

I did not feel like joining the dancing of the Crownland Lords that night after that display. Instead, I chose to join Father as he and Lord Rosby spoke in the corner. Apparently, Lord Rosby’s daughter Bethany was to accompany us north as she too visited the Twins for a match. The Gods knew that there were enough Freys that Lord Walder would find someone in the realm if they met his specifications. They had begun to discuss our ballistae sale to Lord Walder.

“I collect tolls from the Kingsroad, and that alone is all the revenue I need for the year. You really need to peddle these gadgets all over to support your House?” Lord Rosby asked.

“Well, we don’t have a road like that at Stonehelm, or really much commerce period. But the mountains nearby mean that we have a large amount of subsistence farming, with lots of freeholders and not much revenue from it”, I interjected, before finishing, “We have to do something.”

Father looked surprised that I defended our relatively provincial ways, but he at least looked appreciative that I was willing to speak out on behalf of House Swann. Lord Rosby’s ancient looking face stretched a bit in comprehension, before he said, “That is understandable, I guess.”

Father jumped back in the conversation, and the two of them talked of revenue a bit more. I noticed that Gulian and Lord Rosby’s daughter, a girl with blond curls that resembled that witch Cersei’s, but with a less haughty face, were engrossed in a conversation at the end of the table. Gulian would usually be dancing at this point, but he seemed concentrated on someone else for a change.

Jon usually sought me out at events like this, at least in recent years, but I could not find him. We normally would laugh at the ridiculous attempts at dancing and flirtation from Lords and Knights much too old to be doing such things as pursuing serving girls and lady’s maids. I eventually encountered him on the balcony outside the feasting room, and noticed the Prince and two squires whom I did not recognize sitting and looking out over the city.

“What do you think of the view, Jeyne?”

Jon had noticed my presence, as did the others, but I did not have much to say about it. I had never been near this many people on a regular basis before, and the sounds of a city at night were unlike the cold and stony silences I had grown up with, or even the battering of the wind and rain against Storm’s End I had become accustomed to.

“It’s certainly something”, I said, and the four of them chuckled at that. The Prince looked over at me, and seemed like there was something that he wanted to get off of his chest.

“I apologize for my father’s behavior, earlier, Jeyne. He sometimes-“

“Sometimes?” Jon questioned.

“He isn’t in a good place right now.” Rhaegar looked down towards Blackwater Rush, and weighed his words, before continuing, “By the way, how are my cousins doing? I haven’t seen Robert and Stannis for three years now.”

“Very well, your Grace, actually. Stannis has actually smiled, once or twice, in the last few months. Robert on the other hand is as fun as ever, although he is Ser Robert now,” I said with a laugh, “and he’ll likely never let me forget it once he comes back from the Vale.”

The group of us stayed silent for most of the next hour, just looking out over the city and watching the candle lights of Kings Landing dance about as smallfolk moved about from one place to another, like water moving through cracks in a wall. I noticed that Rhaegar kept whispering things to himself, but I felt as if pointing it out would be a bad idea. He did not seem cruel, as his father did, but he was certainly a mournful and troubled person.

The festivities came to an end, and Father, Gulian, and I were escorted into the Tower of the Hand, where lodgings had been prepared for us. Father was in bed almost immediately, having not slept for almost two entire days in a row, and Gulian soon followed.

I sat by the fire in the common room of the Tower, alone, and thought of writing to Robert about what had transpired. Perhaps the next time I wrote to him, I would be married to a Frey, although it was unlikely, so I had wanted to be able to sign my birth name on a letter one last time if needed. I couldn’t put to words, however, the amount of disappointment I had regarding meeting the Targaryens. King Aerys was nothing like he had been described, and he seemed to be a truly terrifying man on the verge of cruel madness. His wife was a battered woman who I wished I could smuggle out to Storm’s End in the dead of night, but ultimately would not be able to. Prince Rhaegar was a man with the world at his fingertips, and seemed too sad to know it. There was something off with him, and I couldn’t tell what it was.

I noticed a member of the Kingsguard in the hall outside the common room, walking towards the entryway.

“Lady Jeyne, perhaps its best if you get to bed soon”, the man said. I could tell by his dialect that I was speaking to someone from the Marches, just like my family. He took off his helmet, and I recognized him immediately.

“Ser Barristan”, I said, “I just feel like sitting here for a while.” I stretched my hands out towards the fire and warmed them, trying to clear my thoughts. Ser Barristan sat next to me, and I had to keep my heart from beating too fast. Sitting next to me was the pride of the Marches, a man so renowned for his valor that his family had several of his portraits and old suits of armor on display in their holdfast. Everyone looked up to him, and here he was, telling me to go to bed. Life was strange sometimes.

“Sometimes I like sitting here too,” he admitted. “The honor of my white cloak keeps me focused. On most nights. Tonight it brought me naught but shame.”

I looked at him in surprise, not knowing what to say. I ventured, “Surely it is a great honor to protect the royal family. Father speaks highly of you often, as does everyone from Stonehelm.”

He looked at me sadly for a moment, before looking down, and saying, “I know that. Protecting the royal family is indeed an honor, but protection can mean many things, and sometimes conflict with our vows. Some members are more important than others.” He continued, “If I could advise you of one thing, Jeyne, don’t make promises that will bring you unhappiness or dishonor in life. Keeping them may bring you esteem of others, but you’ll feel rotten inside.”

At that, he stood up and walked out the door. I thought about what he said for a moment, and my memories flashed back to the meal tonight, and the sight of the King clawing his wife while whispering in her ear.

Perhaps I would wait to write to Robert after all. This city had a toxic undercurrent to it, after all, no matter what the lights in the night or the splendor of the Red Keep indicated.

 

_Note: I’d love some feedback on this, if possible. This is going to likely be a quite long one, and there are any number of directions I could go with it._


	8. Traveling to the Twins

**Jeyne, 278 AC, King’s Landing**

I hardly slept that night, with Ser Barristan’s words burning in my mind. It was hard for me to accept that a man of his honorable stature would be forced by his vows to defend the indefensible treatment of the Queen in that manner. I was determined to never look as terrified as she looked when Aerys had lost his temper at the feast last night. If that meant that I had to be more assertive in determining the character of the man I would be wedded to, so be it. But I would never make an honorable man sworn to protect his liege be put in that position. My battles would be my own.

The sun was just starting to peak up and illuminate the entryway near the edge of my room in the Hand’s Tower as I woke. Rising with a start, I quickly washed and dressed and walked down to the courtyard, where I saw Jon Connington and our household Master-at-Arms, Ser Robyn, sitting together in conversation.

Ser Robyn saw me walking towards them, and rose to attention, before saying, “Lady Jeyne, I was unaware that you would be up at this hour. Is Lord Swann planning on leaving early?”

“No, Ser Robyn, I just had trouble sleeping last night, and figured some fresh air would do me good before we go on the road.”

Ser Robyn looked relieved, and seemed to struggle with what he was about to say. His weather beaten face and burly appearance made it clear that he was not one who often had issues imposing his will over the training ground, but something was clearly amiss.

“Is there something wrong, Ser Robyn?” I asked, furtively curious at what was going on.

His countenance looked shaken, and Jon Connington started chuckling, before the red haired boy said, “Oh, I think you should tell her, Ser Robyn. Either that, or you can tell Lord Swann!”, before he started laughing again. Okay, now I was intrigued. This had better be good.

Ser Robyn seemed to weigh his words for a bit, before stating, “The Hand of the King’s guards had a bit of difficulty finding a place for our men last night. So I found lodgings of my own for the men, and-

Jon started laughing again, and said, “He found lodgings, alright. Apparently your Ser Robyn didn’t know that it was a brothel-

“ _What_?!” I interjected.

“-nor did he know that this brothel had a large contingent of traveling wine merchants staying there at the same time!”

Jon walked towards me, patting me on the shoulder, before saying, “I wish you luck in this matter. House Swann has amused me once more!”, and walking off towards Maegor’s Holdfast while humming one of Robert’s favorite songs, “The Lusty Tyroshi Maid”. I’m sure Jon’s darling silver prince would find this hilarious, and Jon himself would tell every Storm Lord who came through the capital of Lord Swann’s ill disciplined men-at-arms.   _Bastard._

  I figured I had to take charge of this before Father found out, as he would probably execute someone. Or multiple people. It was hard to be sure with him, but failing to meet muster would normally get a Stonehelm Guard a flogging, and being late while caught abed with a whore was something incomprehensible to imagine.

‘Ser Robyn, are all the men at the same”, I began, looking at him with some unease, “ _establishment_?”

“Yes, my Lady”, he replied, before asking, “Do you wish to get your Father involved?”

“I was not planning on it”, I started, before asking, “Does one of the men there have our war horn?”

“I would think so, it was with the detachment when we arrived”, he replied. I figured he understood where I was going with this, as a smile formed on his face, and he started walking towards the stables alongside me.

I had mixed feelings about the Stonehelm War Horn, but Father positively loved it, and as a result, I had woken to the same martial blast every day for the first 14 years of my life. However, I could easily see how it could be useful at times. I had planned on getting a miniature version of it and using it to prank Robert and Stannis, but I had been unable to find a way how to before Robert left for the Vale.

Ser Robyn helped me onto a horse, which I believed was Gulian’s, and I hiked my dress up to my knees, hoping to ride unobstructed. I made sure my wavy hair was in place, as Ser Robyn mounted his own horse, and the pair of us rode off down through the gates and to the base of Aegon’s Hill.

“Where are the men, Ser Robyn?” I asked.

“Should be another half league, and then a right turn towards the River gate. The men are on the second floor.”

The two of us took in the sights of early morning Kings Landing as we rode. The butchers were feeding the gristle and fat to their dogs from their cut, while the cloth makers struggled with their dye jars and tried to get as much purple out of them as possible. This city looked like a tinderbox, with all of the wooden stalls and paper and straw additions to the smaller dwellings. Without the sea nearby, it was hard to imagine how a city like this could even survive a single fire.

Ser Robyn started leading his horse to the right of the street as we arrived at what looked to be a florist’s large consortium. I had never before seen a whorehouse, but I imagined that they would have less flowers than this.

“My Lady, do you wish me to go in and try to find the horn?” he asked.

“I’ll come with you, Ser Robyn. Father always speaks of the burdens of command, after all.”

The pair of us hitched our horses to the post, and I followed him inside. The sight before us was unseemly, with a group of about 10 Swann men staggered in varying positions and completely asleep. Scantily clad women, some of whom looked quite exotic and foreign, were curled amongst them, while others were walking up and about. Luckily for us, a stack of swords and daggers lay in the corner of the large and open room near what looked to be a tavern stand, and the horn lay on top.

Ser Robyn stepped gingerly through the men on the ground, and took the horn, before walking back towards me at the entryway. The whores who were up and about paid him no mention, and hardly seemed to know where they themselves were.

“Shall we step outside for this, my Lady?”

“Well, most of the men are upstairs as you said, so perhaps it’s best to keep this indoors,” I replied.

“Very well then,” he said, before bringing his lips to the horn’s narrow front end and letting out a deep breath as

The very walls of the brothel seemed to shake as he repeated the horn’s sharp tone, and the men immediately rose with a start, alongside the terrified looking women. Many of them were in various states of undress, and in utter shock as they took in the sight of Ser Robyn and myself at the entryway of the whorehouse.

“COMPANY, FALL IN!” I yelled, hoping that my voice would carry to the second level. More and more men started coming down the stairs, and Ser Robyn kept blowing on the horn.

Ser Robyn, when a good majority of the men were present in the lower level, in varying states of immodesty, said, “ALRIGHT, all of you will report outside with weapons and dress in 5 minutes!”

I heard the chatter among the men, as one of them keeled over and started vomiting in a corner. Panicked phrases like “He’ll ‘ave our heads!” and “That’s Lord Swann’s daughter!” and “Where is my bleedin’ shirt?” were repeated.

About 20 minutes later, the men were able to form themselves into some bit of order, and Ser Robyn assembled them into a column formation before the pair of us set off back towards the Red Keep. To be frank, the men probably owed the pair of us quite a bit, as Father would have no patience for that kind of display, but along the way, men fell over or vomited on the road and generally made for a sad looking display of martial might. I caught many fearful looking stares being directed towards me.

I rode ahead into the courtyard once more, leaving Ser Robyn to get the men into some semblance of a respectable unit before they would go and retrieve the ballistae.

Father greeted me in the courtyard, and seemed impatiently waiting for something.

“Jeyne? What are you doing on Gulian’s horse?”

“I was assisting Ser Robyn in his morning inspection”, I replied, before continuing, “I just wanted some fresh air, and didn’t think anyone would mind.”

“Well, I appreciate your dedication, and no, Gulian is still asleep, the stupid lad, so there;s no trouble there.” Father grunted a bit more about Gulian for the next few minutes, before he, and Bethany Rosby, alongside some of the Rosby guards accompanying us showed up in the courtyard.

“I apologize, Father, I was just assisting Bethany-

“So be it”, Father interjected, before stating, “We need to be on the road North now. Bethany, you and my daughter will share the carriage today. I’m going to ride. My son and I need to have a discussion.”

Father finished that sentence somewhat darkly, and I felt that perhaps I didn’t want to be part of that conversation myself. I climbed down from my horse, and handed the reins to Gulian, who looked a bit put out that I had been on his horse to start with, before climbing into the carriage. Bethany did the same, and the pair of us patiently waited for about 10 minutes before we departed the Red Keep and started along the road that would lead us north out the Dragon Gate towards the Kingsroad.

While the carriage was in motion, I noticed my sword from yesterday was still on the ground when I had pushed it in. I figured that they would have put it in my trunk, also in the carriage, but they had forgotten. I picked it up and started shining it with a cloth, before I heard Bethany ask, “What are you doing with that?”

“Oh, it’s mine, actually. A gift from a friend. I try to keep the steel in good condition as often as possible.”

Bethany pushed some of her blond hair to the other side of her face, switching the direction of her bangs, before saying, “Don’t you worry about what the Frey’s might think? You know, a girl with sword and all of that.”

I wasn’t particularly eager to talk about what awaited us at the Twins. I figured that my chances of attracting a match were slim, and that I just wanted to avoid embarrassing myself. Bethany, however, came from a distinguished Crownland House with close ties to the Royal court. She was around my age, and had the distinction of being quite beautiful. She would have less trouble, I think.

“Well, perhaps they would look down upon it. They might also look down on girls who have an obvious attachment to my brother, as well, in ways that would bring scandal, but who am I to judge?” I replied.

Wait, I didn’t actually just say that, did I?

“There is nothing of the sort!” she replied, with indignation and vehemence in her tone.

“I didn’t mean to-,” I began, before stuttering under her furious gaze, and continuing, “I didn’t think I said that out loud. I’m sorry, Bethany.” I hoped she would just let this go. How that slipped out, I wasn’t sure. Perhaps I was just tired and snappy.

“I happen to think your brother is quite gallant and kind to me, and he can be charming, yes, but-

I started internally gagging at this. Gulian? Ew. He always found a way to insult me in some manner, for as long as I could remember. He may be my brother, and I loved him and all of that, but I couldn’t really think of a positive memory in which he played a prominent part. I started zoning out what she had to say after that. For a while, at least.

“-and I know that he is so very stressed by his Father’s expectations, and that he thinks he would be a great Lord if nobody hovered over his decisions, but I assure you, I don’t-“

She was quite the chatterbox, and I expressed agreement at the right points for most of the next hour, as the Kingsroad entered the fertile plains of the upper Crownlands and the lower Riverlands, with fewer trees and settlements nearby. I still couldn’t get over her obvious crush on Gulian of all people, but she did seem nice enough.

My experience with girls my age had been limited mostly to ladies maids who I did not know, as well as wannabe tyrants like Cersei Lannister, or petty annoyances like Mylenda Caron, who had always tried to get the other noble children to shun and mock me whenever we would see each other at an event of some kind. Our families had bad blood going back hundreds of years, what with the Caron’s pretensions of being Lords of the Marches (they weren’t) but I never did anything to her to warrant that kind of treatment.

Eventually, curiosity got the best of me, and I interrupted Bethany as she was on quite the tear discussing her favorite and least favorite type of animals. “Do you know who exactly it is that we will be brought before?” I asked.

“Oh, um, I thought you were already aware. Lord Walder’s 9th son, Merrett, is in need of a betrothal” she replied.

“Do you know anything about him? What he likes, what he doesn’t, things like that?”

Bethany seemed to weigh her words for a change, before overdramatically lowering her voice and saying, “Well, I don’t know if I should be telling you this-

“Please? I want to know”, I replied, playing along. She genuinely thought that I believed her. I knew of course that the opposite was probably true, but I figured having this information wouldn’t hurt.

“Well, okay, I know you’re competition and all of that. But Merrett, he likes assertive and confident girls who are willing to play jokes on him.”

“I’ll remember that. Thank you so much, Bethany!” I said, with feigned warmth in my voice. So I guess I now knew what Merrett didn’t want, at least. Perhaps that could prove helpful if need be.

Night fell over our convoy, and Father told us that we would be stopping for the night. It looked like we were nearing the Green Fork, as Lord Harroway’s Town was said to be coming up in a league or so. We likely would get to the Twins by the afternoon of the next day if we traveled quickly. Bethany and I shared a tent that night, and her excited chatter continued to fill the air as I settled down to sleep. My 15th nameday was tomorrow, and I was a bit nervous about what the day would bring. Perhaps it would be the start of a new life entirely.

I rose early the next morning, and put some time into thinking about what I was going to wear. I didn’t know Merrett Frey, but I figured good impressions wouldn’t hurt. There were no ladies maids along the road with us, but I managed my hair well enough all things considered, and its natural waves actually looked pretty good as it cascaded down to below my shoulders. I put what gold bracelets I had in my trunk on, and found one of Lady Cassana’s gifts, a tight fitting silk red dress that exposed my neckline and then some.

I walked outside the tent and found Father in discussion with Ser Robyn. He looked over at me as I put my trunk into the carriage once more, and his expression was one of bemusement.

“Jeyne, you realize of course that you don’t need to look like that for this trip, correct?” he said.

“I figured it would help my chances, actually. Our house isn’t as wealthy as that of most of the other girls, most likely” I countered.

“Very well, then. Happy fifteenth nameday, by the way”, he said, as he walked over towards the carriage, and gave me a hug. I held onto Father tightly, and he whispered, “Don’t forget to enjoy yourself today. You do your family a great honor in helping secure alliances through matrimony. Always remember that I am proud of you, Jeyne.”

I blushed at that, feeling Father’s recognition for a change. He spent so much time fighting with Gulian, and sometimes forgot about me, but I could tell that he took the prospect of finding me a husband quite seriously. I did wonder, of course, about how I was supposed to be a good wife to a man I had never before met. But Lady Cassana made it clear that as long as I was true to him and found ways to make his life easier, I should never have issues in a marriage. At least, I hoped that was clear.

Our party set off for the Twins a few hours after Dawn. Bethany was much less talkative today, and seemed a bit nervous. It made for a more peaceful carriage ride, but I did feel for her a bit. A girl like that didn’t seem like she took to the pressure of meeting powerful potential matches well, despite her nature, and that likely could cause her problems.

I actually slept a good portion of the way there, and the carriage’s rickety progress over some of the less hospitable parts of the Kingsroad running adjacent to the Green Fork didn’t diminish my relaxation. Bethany looked radiant as ever when I woke up, with Father’s call that the Twins were within sight, but I could tell that internally, she was a mess.

The Twins were definitely quite a sight. The towers on each end of the river were imposing looking, with high curtain walls and arrow slits abounding down to the ground level, where a deep moat on each end lie. The river itself had a swift current, and made quite a bit of noise even from where I was sitting, inside a carriage. The tower in the middle of the river in particular looked quite imposing. I imagine that when it came to fortresses in Westeros, this one was in the top 5, without a doubt. Lord Walder likely was a very rich man, when the tolls collected from his lands were taken into account.

Gulian and Father rode ahead to the castle’s gate, on the east side of the river, where the convoy was heading. I could see some of the ballistae on carts being pushed faster up the road, as Lord Walder would doubtlessly want to see who approached and why.

After we had crossed into the castle, Bethany and I dismounted from the carriage, and Father ushered the pair of us towards the main hall, where a large group of people were gathered.

 _Here goes nothing_ , I thought.


	9. A Harrowing Experience

**Jeyne, 278 AC, The Twins**

If there is one thing that can be said for House Frey, they are a numerous bunch. Lord Frey himself, a decrepit wheezing old man, had certainly been fruitful in his life. His bastard children outnumbered his legitimate children, but combined, they made for a formidable bunch. Lord Frey himself sat at the head of the hall, looking out over the assembled group of notables.

 The hall had grown loud as more and more people had arrived. I noticed many young women and girls in attendance, and I recognized a few of them. It seemed as if Lord Walder had invited most of the eligible maidens in the Seven Kingdoms, or at least, the ones willing to come. Robert would have found such an event thrilling, even if he hated the rituals of courtship and matchmaking. He never passed up a chance to try to impress a large group of women, after all.

In addition to Bethany and myself, I recognized Mylenda Caron, who had once more affixed me with a death glare. I had not seen her for almost a year, but she still hung onto a dislike for me. There were many daughters of relatively minor landed knights from the Stormlands there as well, who I assumed were mostly there for Lord Walder’s baseborn children. After all, a noble bastard was still an upgrade for some small houses. There were many other girls my age, although I had not met them before today. A Royce, a Waynwood, a Redwyne, a Vance, and I believe a Lannister of Lannisport.

House Swann actually did not stack up too badly against most in attendance. Perhaps that was a good sign. In addition, I believed I was probably near the top in terms of attractiveness, as well. Bethany perhaps had me beat, but that was probably it. Lord Walder stood, slowly, and rapped his cane down on the floor before he began to speak.

“My Lords, and to the young ladies present, I welcome you to The Crossing. Because of the many members of my House, I try to hold one of these events each year and see where we go from there, heh”, he said, before continuing, “For some of the lesser ladies, my baseborn sons are all in attendance, and really, you’re welcome to them. Seriously, I plan on making many more, heh.” Nobody else in the hall seemed to find that as funny as Lord Walder did, with his wrinkled grin revealing a man who really was beyond caring about the views of others. His children especially looked away awkwardly, and seemed mortified by his behavior.

“Nonetheless, my son Merrett will be the focus for today, and you can find him outside training in a few minutes, most likely. Not that I care what the ruddy fool does, but there it is.” A shocked gasp went up in the hall, and I could tell that Lord Walder’s behavior was probably much more scandalous for those who had never met him before than for his children, who just shook their heads once more. He continued, “Now, Lord Swann, we have business to discuss. Meet me in the west tower in a half an hour.”

The Maester for the Crossing stood up after that, and said, “Now, ladies, those who are here for Merrett, you will depart the hall and he will get to talk with each of you for a little while, just as a formality. If it pleases Lord Walder, he will make a match for the pair of you.”

At that, the hall dissolved into a flurry of activity, as the highborn girls, myself included, were ushered out by the attendants and taken to the training yard near the edge of the Eastern Tower, where a bunch of squires and some of the Frey sons were training. A strong looking lad, with a brawny build, who had spent the last few minutes beating down a group of little kids, came over to the group of us, before taking Mylenda Caron’s hand and kissing it. This must be Merrett.

Merrett and Mylenda went off on a walk for about ten minutes before returning, and then he took the next girl in line, Bethany, off for a while as well. She came back with a relieved look on her face. As Merrett departed with the next girl, I asked Bethany, “How was it? What was he like?”

“He was fine, I guess. I don’t know why I was so nervous. He just showed me around the tower and asked me about my father’s shipping business. He was probably told to ask those things, and that was the end of it.”

Deep down, I knew that I probably didn’t really want to marry Merrett Frey. But I did want to make House Swann proud, so I figured I would do my best. It was obvious that Merrett was told to look for a rich wife, and I wasn’t going to make the cut. That at least took the pressure off. I knew that Robert would find this whole exercise in futility hilarious when I told him of it, and at least I could look forward to that.

I waited patiently for my turn, and eventually Merrett had moved through most of the other girls before getting to me. He approached me with some amount of weariness, as I was the last one, and he kissed my hand before rising to speak.

“My lady, could I have the honor of showing you around the castle?”

“Of course, I would be happy to come along”, I replied.

Merrett took my hand and escorted me out of the training yard, and in through the entryway that led to the Eastern Tower. I noticed that he seemed to walk with some urgency, as if he just wanted to get this over with. I was a little bit insulted, to be honest, as I had gone to some lengths to look my best. He had not even looked at me once by the time we had gotten to the second level of the tower.

Okay, I had to say something before I was just shunted off and away.

“Are you going to ask me about how much money my father has?”

He turned around, shocked, and said, “No, my lady, I thought you had been informed already.”

“Informed of what?”

“Of the real reason you were invited, of course”, he replied. What was going on?

“So, you weren’t told to just find some rich heiress or daughter to stake a claim to?”

He at least had the decency to blush a bit, before saying, “Well, yes, that much should be obvious. But you specifically, and Lady Rosby, are here for my father, whose wife passed away a few months back.”

“WHAT?!” I nearly screamed. This was completely ridiculous! They seriously thought that either me, or Bethany, was going to marry that old lecher? Did my Father know of this? How could this have been allowed to happen?

“My Father was unsure if he wanted a fertile or barren woman to marry, so he picked two houses with divergent reputations on that front, and wanted to meet the pair of you”, Merrett replied rather sheepishly.

“So all of this, the rich girl shakedown stuff, it was all a cover for-

 “Really, our house is quite wealthy, I don’t know why you are being like this about it”, Merrett replied somewhat pretentiously.

I was absolutely seething, as angry as I had ever been before, but I needed some clarity. “Did my Father know of this before we came here?”

“I think not, as he is only here to sell those infernal siege weapons to Father. But I had thought that one of the attendants had told you earlier on. I mean, really, you didn’t see this coming? Your family are little more than common tradespeople with impoverished tenant farmers paying tiny amounts of rent-

“With 4000 men sworn to Stonehelm! Who will gladly smash those who insult me in this manner! And I will not take this insult-

“Be reasonable about this, my lady” Merrett said, as he grabbed my arm rather forcefully and started walking us down to the courtyard. He had a strong grip on me, but I could easily slip out if need be. “You will be brought before Father later on, and he will, for a lack of a better term, evaluate you.”

I shuddered at the thought of that.

“So, then what’s your role in all of this? Are you actually looking for a wife?”

“Yes, I am to seek a rich wife. But you do not fit the profile”, he said, rather contemptuously, before adding in under his breath, “ _even if she does have an amazing pair of tits_.”

At that, I lost it. Who did this… _cretin_ … think he was?! I had seen him whacking a sword at boys half his age earlier and leaving them in the dirt, before going over to that wretched Mylenda Caron and choosing her first! Then, he had played off that rotten game to Bethany, and she had been none the wiser about the real reason she was here, before absolutely ignoring me, and now discussing aspects of my appearance, in my very presence, thinking I was too stupid to hear it.

I pulled my arm away from him, right as we reached the entryway to the training yard from the tower, and swung as hard as I could with my other arm at his face, letting out a loud yell in the process.

 The surprise on his face was palpable, but sadly, I had not actually known how to throw a punch, and my closed right fist collided instead with his neck. My hand stung immediately, with the reverberations of the force I had swung with colliding back into the joints of my arm. The pain immediately became apparent to me as I jumped backwards.

Rather than leaving him with a black eye or a bloody nose, as I had wished, he instead collapsed to the ground, and looked as if he was choking. It seemed as if I had hit him in the windpipe. This may have been more effective, but it was a mistake, and one that might have been serious.

Immediately, the other girls, and the attendants with us, rushed over to the pair of us. We had been within visual range of them, and I realized that it looked as if I had swung at Merrett unprovoked. This, was, well, it was bad.

“Look at what the Swann bitch did now!” shrieked Mylenda, to no surprise on my part. “She attacked Merrett!”

“It was an accident!” I futilely protested, convincing nobody. Merrett was still coughing, and still trying to get his bearings, as he rolled around on the ground. I was immediately seized by two of Lord Walder’s guards, and dragged back towards the main hall of the castle. Bethany had a terrified look on her face, and shrank towards the back of the group of girls, as if she didn’t know me.

The guards ran smack dab into Lord Walder, and Father, as they were returning to the hall.

“-well, that works with me, Lord Swann. As promised, 2000 dragons will be sent to House Swann from the Iron Bank’s next shipment. The raven has already left. Now, there is another matter I would like to discuss with you, and it involves-“

“What is the meaning of this?!” yelled Father, as he saw me being dragged into the main hall. “That is my daughter!”

“Lord Frey, the girl set upon your son, unprovoked, and hit him-

“Unprovoked!?! He led me here under false pretenses!” I yelled back, shaking at the guards grip. Lord Walder’s glassed over eyes took in the situation, and he seemed to find the whole situation amusing. I could see him take a sip out of the wine cup put in front of him, before looking at me directly.

“So you took a swing at that dumb bag of rocks, heh. I’ll have no complaints about that. Let the girl go”, said Lord Walder. The guards threw me to the floor, and Father immediately came over to me and picked me up, before leading me to a seat. I could tell he was furious, but I could not tell what had angered him most, my behavior, or my treatment.  

“Now, Lord Swann, this is what I was going to get to. I need a wife, with Sarya gone, and your family has always been a place we Freys look to for such matters. This is your girl, here?”

“Lord Frey, you better have a good explanation for this-

“The Rosby girl, I was going to look at her as well. Thing is, my children don’t want me to take a Swann wife, as women of your house always prove fertile, and they don’t want any more competition. But I don’t particularly care. The Rosby’s aren’t known for bearing many children, and my children wanted me to take a look at her as well”, Lord Walder continued.

“How is it that I am just hearing of this?”

“Ah, I figured it might get out what I was doing, and Lord Rosby would keep his girl away. But no matter, I’d like to meet your girl over there”, he said.

The deception and insult of this all was a lot for me to bear. I tried to maintain my composure, but I looked up at Lord Walder’s grotesque and uncaring visage and shouted, “This is outrageous! Your son tried manhandling me back to the courtyard, and as a result, I struck him in the windpipe! And now, you sit there, and insult House Swann with-

Lord Walder started laughing a deep cackle, and said, “The girl forgets her place! But that is alright, Merrett needed someone to take him down a peg or two anyways. Now, let me look at you”, he said, before rising up to his feet and putting down his wine cup, and taking a few strides across the hall towards Father and myself.

Father rose to his feet, and said, “Lord Frey, this is not what I agreed to-

“Ah, just give me a minute or so to look at her and make a decision. It won’t take long”, Lord Walder interjected, before stopping hunched over with his cane a few feet in front of me. He was virtually undressing me with his eyes, and was taking particularly long to look at my breasts, before glancing up at my face with a smile.

I was doing all that I could not to vomit right on the spot, as this was turning out to be the most humiliating experience of my life. Father was doing his best to keep his composure, but I could tell he wanted to rip Lord Walder in half.

“Now, Clifford, she has the look of Cyrenna, don’t you think?” Lord Walder said, with a chuckle.

I was aware that he was once married to my Great Aunt Cyrenna before her death, but that was well before my time. The man in front of me had known King Aegon when he was still a squire for Duncan the Tall. He was a truly ancient creature.

“Jeyne, I must say, while your face is pretty enough, you are a bit thin. A pretty face does nothing for me, after all, as I’m generally not looking at you face to face when it comes down to it, heh” he said, with a deeply disturbing lack of care for what was coming out of his mouth. Father pulled me close at this moment, and started to turn to leave, when Lord Frey continued to speak.

“Childbearing hips are serviceable, but not extraordinary, as I have come to expect from your family. On the other hand, those breasts-

“I must get some air, Lord Frey”, said Father, with the coldest tone I’ve ever heard from him before. I held on to his arm as we speedily walked out of the hall, with silent tears threatening to fall from my face the whole time.

Walder Frey cackled loudly, and called for ale to be brought to him. I didn’t look back, not once, and I decided to cling to Father with every ounce of my being. I just wanted to go home, or to Storm’s End, and forget that any of this had ever happened.

As soon as we got to the courtyard, Father sought out Ser Robyn and Gulian, and told them that we were leaving right now. Gulian took one look at me, and immediately went over to his horse, as did Ser Robyn. Ser Robyn rode out to the men on the Kingsroad, who were lounging in the grass with the now empty carts. That reminded me of our real purpose for coming, and I looked up at the ramparts on the Western Tower, where a coterie of men were maneuvering around one of our ballistae into a spot pointed due north.

Something was sticking in my mind, however, and I felt as if I was forgetting something really important. I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear as I tried to remember, as Father continued to grip me tightly.

“BETHANY!” I shouted out, remembering what was happening. Lord Walder would soon learn that he had his other desired bride still on his ground, and that would be a nasty situation.

“What about her?” asked Gulian.

“Gulian, trust me on this, you need to go find Bethany in the courtyard and bring her back here right now!” I replied. He didn’t say anything, but he did start moving his horse in the direction of the courtyard.

Father yelled something to Ser Robyn, and the carriage was brought up to the gate of the Eastern part of the castle. Father walked the pair of us over to the carriage, and helped me in. I saw Gulian riding out with Bethany looking somewhat dazed on the back of his horse. She had no idea what was going on, and probably wouldn’t for a while. Father climbed in the carriage, and I put my head in his lap and finally allowed myself to cry.

The men on the Kingsroad formed into a column, and our party made our way south as fast as we could I did not think that Lord Walder would try to pursue, but I don’t think Father wanted to take any chances, and the men jogged most of the way rather than merely marched.

This was, without a doubt, the worst nameday I had ever had. That included my 9th nameday, when I had fallen down a flight of stairs, or my 12th nameday, when Gulian had poured a half crate of red dye over my head as a joke. I allowed myself to cry for a few hours after that ordeal, and it had probably been almost 10 years since I had last allowed myself to cry in front of Father. He looked quite morose, and just kept stroking my hair as I tried to purge the visit to the Twins from my mind.

Eventually, my tears abated, and I was able to sit up and try to reorient myself. It was pitch dark by this point, but I think Father wanted to get to the Green Fork before we rested even a bit. The men outside sounded exhausted.

“Jeyne, I want you to know that you did nothing wrong today”, Father said, hoping that it would bring me out of my sniffles.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Father”, I replied. The sooner I put this past me, the better. Nothing was gained for me on this trip, other than a knowledge that I should ask Robert or Stannis some tips on throwing a punch. My hand was still swollen red with pain, and I was lucky that I had not actually hit Merrett in the face, as it would have likely broken.

“It’s important that you know that. I didn’t see anything like that coming. When I met you mother-“, he began, and it seemed hard for him to continue. He never liked to talk about mother. “When I met your mother, we were told that she was to be my wife, and there was nothing like what happened today, not a whiff of it” he said, before taking a moment to pull me in close to him once more. It was rare for him to show physical affection like this.

“It was just how things were handled for us. I had seen her before at feasts, as she was from House Buckler, a relatively notable house, but I had never spoken a word to her before. I grew to love your mother, Jeyne, but I just as easily could have grown to love someone else.”

“I promise you that I will never put you in a situation like that again” he said, before continuing, “but I don’t want you to go through what I went through either. I married your mother, and a month later, I was marching to King’s Landing with our levies to embark for the Stepstones. We had hardly spoken before I left. “

Father seemed to be lost in a memory of some kind, and his always weary face looked almost wistful for a moment. I had not known the details of my parents and how they met, but I figured it had been something like that. Father had only really spoken to mother in the last few years when they were alone, and she was always so weak and bed ridden after she had survived the Spring Sickness. I don’t think he ever really processed his grief for real, or allowed himself to think about what her passing meant for Gulian and I.

The beginnings of dawn looked to be breaking before Father finally halted the convoy, and we were over the Green Fork and in the area of Lord Harroway’s Town once more. I had allowed myself to sleep a bit in the carriage, so I was sitting in the confines of my tent with Bethany. She had been told what had happened by Father, and seemed on the verge of a breakdown. She sat up, holding her knees to her face, and rocked back and forth and morosely chattered with me, or rather, chattered at me.

“Gulian was so very gallant, coming in and swooping me onto his horse, before riding us out of the gates”, she said. I actually think she just swooned for real. I suppose it might have looked that way to her, but I couldn’t help but internally gag once more. Yuck.

 “Oh, Jeyne, I’m so glad that your family saved me from that man. My father never would have allowed that marriage to happen, but being alone with him, I just-, I couldn’t do it”, she continued. Actually, her father might have allowed it to happen, not knowing Lord Frey personally, or possibly only knowing bits and pieces about him. But I didn’t want to burst her bubble.

 “Let’s just be glad that we got out of there”, I replied, wanting her to just stop talking for a while. I’d rather just sit in silence for a while. I liked Bethany, and all, but she didn’t really understand how to read people’s nonverbal cues, and it was getting irritating.

As upset as I was, at least I was going home, or rather, to Storm’s End. Soon enough, at least, I would. I would not ever forget the insult that House Frey paid me, however, and I would not ever tolerate someone to make me feel this way again. That morning, as most of the guard slept, I tried writing a letter to Robert about what had happened. Truthfully, however, the words would just not come to the page, and I felt it was best if I waited until I was back at Storm’s End before writing.

With a heavy sigh, I put away the parchment and prepared to move out once more.

 

**_Note: Reviews are like candy, and everyone loves candy. So please review!!_ **


	10. A Return to Abnormality

**Jeyne, 278 AC, Storm’s End**

It had been about 2 months since I had returned to Storm’s End from the Twins with Father. I played off the whole trip as a waste of time to everyone who would ask, including Stannis, who wanted to know if Merrett Frey had spoken to me respectfully (he hadn’t, of course) and Septa Mylla, who repeatedly asked me if I had remembered the proper order of courtesies for a Riverlands suitor (probably not, but that wasn’t really important). The only person who knew the truth, or at least a good portion of it, was Robert, who I had written to about it. I was waiting to hear back from him, but I knew it would probably be a while.

Lady Cassana had questioned me thoroughly about what had happened, but I merely relayed to her that Merrett Frey was looking for a wife far richer than I. She had seemed a bit put out by that, and had declared House Frey to be fools for overlooking me. I saw no reason to divulge further what had really happened.

While settling back into my normal routine had been fulfilling for me, I still missed Robert terribly, and the looming specter of the King’s tourney (and Lord Steffon had been insistent that we continue to call it that, for he was most displeased with the whole affair) had quickly thrown that bit of solace down the drain.

It was for that reason, indeed, that I found myself outside the walls of Storm’s End on a horse riding alongside Lord Steffon and Maester Cressen, who were overseeing the placement of the jousting lists and the massive tent city that was to go up in a few weeks’ time for the tournament. It was a typical day in the Stormlands, with wind biting at my face as I kept pace alongside the two of them. Lady Cassana had told me to go and help them as they directed the men in constructing the tourney grounds.

“Jeyne, can you go speak to Harbert about bringing the handguards for the lances down to the tourney ground? I’m a bit busy with putting up the meal tents.”

“Of course, my Lord”, I replied, before riding back up to the gate of the castle. I noticed Harbert milling around with some Baratheon Men-At-Arms, and asked, “Harbert? Can I get some handguards sent down to the jousting lists?”

“I’d be happy to bring one” interjected Stannis, who rode up to the group of us from behind the gate. He had a lance in hand with a handguard affixed, and was wearing a coat of mail. Stannis gestured for me to follow him down towards the trail that I had rode up from.

“I thought you were still training for the day?”

“Turns out that they’re not letting me into the melee after all”, he replied, with a more grim than normal scowl on his face. I could tell this was quite the blow for him, but it was probably for the best. He was, after all, one year younger than me, and would be competing against men double his age. However, I knew he had no interest in hearing that, so I tried to spin it in his favor, as the pair of us rode back down towards the assembling tourney grounds.

“Personally, I’ve always found tourneys to be exercises in preening stupidity and grotesque wastes of wealth”, I replied, hoping that it would sway him towards seeing things a bit more positively.

“I’m a second son, Jeyne. I have to make my mark somehow-

“Well, perhaps there will be another tournament when you get a bit older”, I interjected. Stannis had a tendency to hold onto slights like they were precious possessions, and I figured that it probably would be better to get him looking towards the future.

The two of us spent most of the day helping Lord Steffon coordinate some of his men in setting up the jousting lists. The archery stations and melee sands would be put in over the course of the next week, according to plan. I could tell that Lord Steffon was highly strung about this whole tournament, and the constant stream of ravens coming from King’s Landing, with various petty demands on the part of the King, were not helping matters.

As we sat down for dinner that night, Lord Steffon, having been informed of yet another raven arriving from King’s Landing, indulged in a bit more wine than normal for him, and was quite interrogative of me in particular.

“So, Jeyne, when you and your father visited King’s Landing and paid homage to the King, how would you say he was?”

“Pardon, my Lord?”

Lord Steffon seemed to bite back a retort, before gathering himself, and asking, “Was His Grace welcoming to you? Did the Royal family seem to be at harmony?”

I thought of that dark night once more, sharing some space near the fire with Ser Barristan, and shuddered a bit, before answering, “His Grace seemed a bit agitated-“, I slowly began, hoping not to say anything out of line.

“Agitated? How?”

I figured sharing this with Lord Steffon would be important in some manner or another, but I could tell across the table that Stannis was disturbed by his Father’s more talkative and buzzed state, and he was staring at the both of us with intensity.

“Well, he accused Lord Tywin of bringing my Father in to show off his influence, before even acknowledging us.”

“I am aware of the tension between them, Jeyne. Anything else?”

“And when we left our audience with His Grace, there was a public execution of a traitor to the realm, who Ser Jon Connington seemed to think was little more than a petty thief.”

Lord Steffon’s face darkened as I spoke, as it seemed that I was merely confirming his worst fears about the King. His bright blue eyes almost looked like they were welling up with emotion as he looked down onto his plate, before continuing, “And what of the royal family?”

At this, I struggled with what to say. I assumed I should stay positive, but I had a feeling that Lord Steffon would see through that. Nonetheless, I figured it was worth a shot. “I did not see Prince Viserys, of course, as he has not yet seen his second nameday. But Prince Rhaegar seemed nice enough, even if he seemed somewhat sad.”

I suddenly remembered what the King had said about Lord Steffon finding Rhaegar a wife. I hoped that this directive would not come in the near future, however, as I believe Lord Steffon would have trouble controlling his anger at being given such a task.  The walls of Storm’s End may be used to dealing with the expressed fury of its Lord and Master, but I certainly wasn’t. Lord Steffon seemed to accept this, before continuing, “And what of my cousin, the Queen?”

I had wanted to avoid that part, but a voice in the back of my mind shouted at me to say something constructive. Lord Steffon had the ability to add to her happiness with just a bit of attention, after all. I replied, “The Queen spoke fondly of her memories of Storm’s End while growing up, and was very nice to me during the feast.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, my Lord, she indicated that she would be very happy if you were to write her every now and then. I don’t think-”, I said, before stopping myself. It would not serve me or anyone else well if I was to reveal the nasty details of what I had seen or conjectured about the marriage of Queen Rhaella and King Aerys.

“Go on, Jeyne”, said a weary and upset looking Lord Steffon. I figured there was no way out of this, with the attention of Lady Cassana, Stannis, and the household attendants on me now in addition to Lord Steffon.

“I don’t believe that the King treats Queen Rhaella very well, my Lord. I think she could use a friend, and seemed very interested in your family when we spoke.”

Lord Steffon’s eyes had watered and glassed up a bit more at hearing this, and I could tell that it was not the wine. He seemed to weigh my words as our meal came to an end, and stayed seated at the table as we all adjourned to our evening quarters.

The next day began much like others, with me going to my lessons with Lady Cassana and mostly discussing preparation for the upcoming tourney. However, at the end, she pulled out a letter that she had just gotten from the raven crookery before lessons began.

“This one is for you, Jeyne, from Robert. It seems like the two of you are becoming avid pen pals.”

She said that with a smile, but she also seemed very interested in how I would respond, and was looking at me with a smirking inquisitive glance. Well, I wasn’t going to give her anything to work with, despite the fact that my insides were doing flips, as usual, whenever one of his letters arrived. I put on my most stoic expression possible, took the letter, and said, “Thank you, my Lady. I’m sure Robert has much to tell me of his adventures in the Vale.”

I walked out of her solar, and I was grateful that Septa Mylla was not in attendance today, as she would have certainly scolded me for not curtsying before leaving. My pace was brisk, but I did not want to waste time reading the letter in front of Lady Cassana. I realized with a shock that she might have already read the letter, and might have known that I was less than truthful about my visit to the Twins. Nonetheless, she did not seem to be the snooping sort, and I trusted that she would not do such a thing.

I sat down in front of the fire in the guest tower’s common space, and pulled out the letter to start reading.

_Dear Jeyne,_

_I had a feeling something was fishy about that whole Frey business when you wrote to me about it at the time. Turns out, that weasel Merrett has a younger brother named Geremy who had to stay with Lord Arryn and the rest of us for a few months before moving on to squire with Lord Grafton. I never paid much attention to Geremy, seeing as he too was a bit of a weasel, but Ned reminded me that he kept talking about his father looking for a new wife._

_Anyways, nice job on the punch! I know you want me to show you how to do one for real when next we see each other, but really, a windpipe blow isn’t nothing to scoff at. You’re a girl, after all, and girls are supposed to fight dirty!_

_As for the rest of everything, your father was right, and it wasn’t your fault. I’ll have you know that the day before he left, I pummeled Geremy in the training yard and left him with a black eye and multiple bruises from blunted hammer blows, and I did all that for you (although, I must confess, the little bugger had it coming after he had drank all of Lord Arryn’s stocks of Arbor Gold for wards and not shared any of it with the rest of us)._

_So don’t do anything like write to the Faceless Men, or write a letter to Lord Tywin regarding his daughter’s bratty demeanor and sign it as Lord Walder, or pay some Lyseni merchant to send Greyscale Blankets to the Crossing, or any of the other things you put in your letter regarding revenge. By the Seven, Jeyne, you have a brutal streak in you! I wouldn’t have it any other way, though._

_By the way, I’m going to Gulltown soon to depart for Storm’s End, as the tourney draws near. The guys are all coming with me, and I’m sure you’ll love them._

_Your Friend,_

_Ser Robert Baratheon_

As usual, Robert’s letters made me feel all warm inside as I imagined him putting every ounce of his joviality into his quill strokes. I found his confidence in me, and his indignation at my treatment, to be quite heartening. I wasn’t serious about any of my Frey revenge plots, but when I wrote to Robert, I was certainly thinking some dark thoughts. Perhaps Stannis could have come up with some better ones. For now, though, I will be satisfied with Geremy Frey’s thorough battering.

Robert and his friends coming to Storm’s End soon definitely would bring me out of this depressive rut that I had been in since the Frey visit. While Stannis was a dear friend, he was probably the most permanently depressed lad I had ever met, and he really wasn’t much of a help. As for Robert’s friends, they all had to have something going for them. Otherwise, why would he bother?

I spent most of the rest of the week assisting with tourney preparations, as expected, but Robert’s return was definitely on my mind the whole time. I was a bit worried about what his friends from the Vale would think of me. Stannis had no interest at all in discussing this when I asked him, and I got the impression that Robert’s life in the Vale was a sore subject for him.

The tourney drew nearer and nearer, with only a few weeks left before the hedge knights would start to arrive early to capitalize off of the generosity of House Baratheon. The massive tent city and the jousting lists were all complete, and although it seriously inhibited the ability to Stannis and I to ride out towards the woods as we desired, it certainly made for a beautiful sight from the height of Lady Cassana’s solar, and I spent much time during lessons looking off into space, imagining what it would look like when people inhibited them.

With the preparations of the grounds complete, Lord Steffon spent much more time inside the castle, but his nervous and frayed outlook did not seem to change very much. In fact, he started talking about disastrous hypothetical crises quite often during supper, and asked Stannis how he would handle it. I found the conversation to be both disturbing and fascinating in equal measure, so I frequently would join in.

Tonight, in fact, they were going over a touchy subject relating to the specter of rebellion.

“And what would you do, Stannis, if one of our bannermen rebelled and declared war on us for the paramountcy of the Stormlands?” he pressed, prying for any weakness on the part of his second son.

“I would petition his Grace for aid, and proceed to destroy the rebels to the root-

“Assume for a second, however, that this rebel has outside support. Assume that His Grace _wants_ us to be overthrown by our bannermen.”

Stannis stammered in reply, “That’s…., well, Father, that’s just insane. Why would such a thing happen?”

“The point of this, Stannis, is to have a plan for all situations. What would you do in that situation?”

Stannis thought for a moment, and seemed to pour over his options, before replying, “Well, it depends on what house you have in mind is leading the rebellion.”

“See, this is what I was looking for. Go on, Stannis.”

“Assuming it would be a house strong enough to stand on its own, it would have to be either the Carons, who are geographically isolated far to the west and could count on support coming to them quickly from others who would profit from our demise outside the Stormlands, or it could be House Tarth, who have a fleet of their own and would have a secure base on that island of theirs. Or, it would be-

“House Swann”, I interjected, as Stannis started to look over at me. “Oh, don’t worry, Stannis, this is all just a hypothetical exercise.”

“She’s right, Stannis”, began Lord Steffon, before continuing, “Although, I wonder, Jeyne, how is it that you’d make such a rebellion work?”

“Well, it wouldn’t work”, I replied, before going on to say, “But, I’m sure that the Selmys, Dondarrions, and Mertyns would immediately rally to us, with the Carons likely staying neutral and the Estermonts, with the small amount of men they can furnish, probably capitulating quickly.”

“Now wait just a minute! “, interjected Lady Cassana, but I continued on.

“At that point, we would have around 10,000 men, and would lay siege to Griffin’s Roost, which is indeed quite formidable. The rebellion would fall apart at that point, however, unless there was serious outside help, as none of the northern Storm Lords would declare for us without House Connington on our side, and House Tarth alone, in addition to your personal holdings, would give you all the men you would need to relieve Griffin’s Roost.”

Stannis scowled at me, as I had yet again upstaged him in his father’s stress addled pre-tourney state, but the rest of the hall just sort of continued on as normal, and ignored Lord Steffon’s ramblings.

I went to bed that night wishing that this infernal tourney could be over so everyone could just calm down a bit. Sometimes, I really did miss Stonehelm.


	11. The Prodigal Son Returns, with friends

**Jeyne, 278 AC, Storm’s End**

The first thing I had noticed waking up that day was the familiar sound of a war horn in place of a cock’s crow. The garrison was not being called to muster, however, so it must have come from somewhere else. The absence of Lord Steffon from breakfast further signified that something was going on. Stannis sullenly stared at his meal, placing his elbow on the table’s edge and stabbed his eggs with a vehemence. Something was clearly afoot, but it seemed that I was the only one out of the loop.

“What’s going on, Stannis?” I asked.

“Hedge knights. Bloody hedge knights”, he replied, before devouring another egg.

“You mean to say that tourney guests are starting to arrive?”

“Aye. A fat lot of them, too, from the looks of it earlier. You’ll see, Jeyne. They’ll trample all over our hospitality, and nothing will be done about it.” Stannis pushed his plate aside, and stood to walk out of the hall towards the training yard. I figured to follow him, as with the arrival of guests, there was no way my lessons were still on for the day.

“Come on, Stannis. You’re not really this angry just because of some hedge knights?”

Stannis unsheathed his sword and starting bashing away at a newly put up training dummy. Taking the time to turn around, he said, “Not just hedge knights. I was listening to Maester Cressen and one of the guardsmen speaking earlier. Seems as if the prodigal son has returned, and brought with him some _friends_.”

What?! Robert was back!

Why didn’t he tell me at breakfast? The jealousy aspect, I suppose, was still there for him, but Stannis should have known better.

He continued, “in fact, I bet him and the wolf pup are making their way towards the tourney grounds right about now, surely to disturb all of Father’s preparations in some manner, and-“

I had dashed back from the training yard, leaving Stannis to his anger, and went into the guest tower at once. Pushing my hand through my hair, I made sure that its wave was intact as usual (and it was, as the Gods had seen fit to as of late, bless me with the inexplicable ability to almost never have a bad hair day; personally, I’d rather have a better gift, but it will do for now), and I made sure to straighten my coral blue riding dress, which was flattering but not overly so, before taking out my sword and buckling it to my hip. It was at least a conversation starter, after all.

I walked down from the guest quarters through the courtyard and past the gate. It seemed as if the entire tourney ground had lit up in a fury of excitement and conflict. The hedge knights, of which there were perhaps almost a hundred, were a boisterous lot. From the gate, I could see groups of five making joust passes at each other, while the others had seemingly entered an unarmed ad-hoc melee of sorts.

On the dais near the hastily organized spectator stands, I saw a group of four young men shouting orders at the ones below. The familiar raucous laughing and colorful curses gave away the one in the middle to be Robert. It seemed that he had somehow grown to be more strong and attractive since I had last seen him. The others on the dais seemed at varying levels of comfort with Robert’s coaching of the Hedge Knight brawl.

I walked down from the gate and into the assembled tourney camp, gingerly avoiding hedge knights who were either too bruised or drunk (before midday, mind you) to continue, and laying down near the tents.

Robert must have recognized me, for he jumped down into the melee, and strode towards me with a purpose. Before I knew it, he had grabbed me by the arm and propelled me into the air, spinning me as I laughed.

“Jeyne! Good to see I can still lift you without effort!” he shouted.

“Robert! Put me down!” I protested, half seriously because we were starting to draw attention. He obliged, and his three friends had made their way through the crowd and joined us. The five of us walked back through the incapacitated hedge knights back towards the hill that led to Storm’s End. Robert introduced me to his friends as we walked.

“I have some people you should meet. Jeyne, this is Denys Arryn, Ned Stark, and Elbert Arryn. Guys, this is Lady Jeyne Swann, who has been staying at Storm’s End for almost a year now” he said, gesturing from me to the three walking beside him. Two of them, Denys and Elbert, by way of sharing blood ties, looked quite similar. Tall and handsome, with blond hair and light blue eyes that resembled Robert’s, and wearing leather armor with a falcon near the center. The third, closest to Robert, who was identified as Ned, had dark brown hair and grey eyes, and was wearing simpler riding clothes. He reminded me a lot of Stannis, with his seemingly stony disposition.

As we crossed the gate, Elbert sidled next to me and took my hand, before kneeling and kissing it, and starting to say, “I am hon-

Robert cut him off and said with a clipped tone, “Didn’t I tell you she was alright on the way here? None of that funny business, Elbert. Jeyne’s a friend of mine.”

I didn’t know what had set him off exactly, and while Ned and Denys had nodded at me kindly, Elbert going a little bit above and beyond with his acknowledgements didn’t seem to be that bad. He sheepishly rose and gave me a smirking look before sidling back next to his cousin.

“Now really, Robert, he was just being polite”, I said, with a jovial tone in my voice. Nobody was really ever that polite to me, after all, and I enjoyed the attention, as evidenced by my rapidly blushing face.

“Eh, he can be polite with Stannis, who still likely has a stick up his arse if I had to guess-

I giggled at that, and said, “It’s not the same, and you know it!’

“Whatever. Let’s go eat! It’s been a week since we set off at Gulltown.”

The rest of the day largely followed a pattern of Robert trying to spar with the Hedge Knights, and his friends trying to keep up and keep things from getting out of hand. I could tell that Lord Steffon was not pleased by the immediate rendering of the tourney ground into something reminiscent of a King’s Landing tavern, but he and Lady Cassana were far too busy to really pay much mind to what was going on.

Late in the day, as the sun started going down, the first of the lordly retinues arrived, with it surprisingly being the Riverlander, Lord Jason Mallister.  Supper as a result was a formal affair. I sat across from Robert, and next to Stannis, as usual, with Elbert on my other side.  Robert seemingly wanted to crack a joke the whole time by the bored look on his face, but he restrained himself to avoid embarrassing his father in front of Lord Mallister, and instead, got Ned to tell us about what the North was like. I was particularly interested by the topic of winter.

“-and so we stockpile a good portion of our food during summer for winter, which can get quite nasty for the smallfolk, who we try our best to help.”

“Makes you wonder how the Night’s Watch deals with it, honestly. How do they get fed?” asked Denys.

“The Watch owns the Gift, which stretches 50 leagues south of the wall. They use it to grow what they can, which isn’t much, and to collect funds for provisions. Father also sends them supplies to make up the difference of what they need.”  

Elbert seemed to think for a second, before saying, “You go on and on about what a great honor being a Black Brother is, Ned, but really, what’s so great about it? Every man there is freezing, possibly starving, and without access to wine, women, or song.”

“Starks for thousands of years have taken the black out of duty to the people of the North. That in and of itself is a reward”, said Ned, somewhat piously.

Elbert shot back, “The one time I spoke to your brother, he had somewhat different thoughts on the matter-“

“Brandon is a first son, and it would be inappropriate for him to become a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch-“

“And, besides, he’d have to give up wine, women, and song, wouldn’t he? Doesn’t sound like the Brandon I know” said Robert, with a smirk, and the four boys shared a chuckle. Stannis, however, glowered into his plate with a more vociferous than usual scowl. It seemed like there were obvious parallels between him and Ned, with both having rather boisterous and amorous older brothers who were fun to be around but not the most mindful of their duty. Perhaps he was struggling with the idea that he might sympathize with Ned just a little bit, despite his jealousy.

In any case, I wasn’t going to bring this up with him. The only thing Stannis hates more than feeling mistaken in some way is for someone else to point it out. But I had a feeling that he and Ned might make for good friends someday.

Some time went on, and I noticed Elbert slowly edging his way closer and closer to me. I wasn’t sure how to tell him to scoot back over on the bench, but I’m sure he was just a bit buzzed from the ale. I figured I could put up with it for the rest of supper, even if he was really starting to crowd me.

“Is it true that the Wildlings raid you periodically?” inquired Stannis, having thoroughly mashed his lamprey into a fine paste, and looking up with trepidation.

“It is rare that they would get as far south as Winterfell. In the time of my great grandfather, Wildling raids got bad enough that the Wildling King Beyond The Wall, Raymun Redbeard, marched south with an army after taking over part of the Wall. In those years, particularly after the Great Sickness, it happened often. Not anymore, though.”

“Seems like with your Wildlings and Lord Arryn’s mountain clans, we have things pretty good here, then”, said Robert. “Not that I would have any issues beating down a Wildling with my hammer, mind you.”

“The far northern houses like the Umbers and the Mormonts sometimes have to make examples of raiding wildlings, with heads mounted on pikes atop the gates of their holdings and the like. But really, I’ve never seen a Wildling before. Winterfell is a lot like this place, except being colder and having different Gods”, replied Ned.

At that moment, Lady Cassana called us over to meet Lord Mallister formally. The six of us rose and walked over to the head table, where Lord Steffon introduced us to him. Jason Mallister resembled Elbert quite a bit, being tall and lean, with the one difference being his dark hair. Lord Steffon went over the group of us, and while he was polite, I don’t particularly think Lord Mallister cared for more than the joust, as I could see him sizing up Robert while ignoring the other boys.

“-and this is my ward, Jeyne Swann. Her father is an old friend of mine, and she’s been no trouble at all since she arrived almost a year back.”

Lord Mallister nodded politely once more, before seemingly something ticked in his head, and he said, “Wait, YOU are Jeyne Swann?”

“Yes, my Lord”, I said, not knowing that he knew of me.

He smiled, and said, “You’re the girl who throat punched one of Walder Frey’s brats! I heard all about that bit of nasty business. The Freys are basically neighbors of mine, of the worst sort, and it’s great that someone took them down a peg for a change.  In fact, I was planning on going to your father directly for a catapult installation at Seagard after hearing you did that.”

I didn’t know what to say, but I suppose that losing my temper on Merrett Frey had some positives in the end. “Thank you, my Lord. I’m sure my Father will appreciate the business. I, um, lost my temper at Merrett, after he had made a thoroughly inappropriate comment, but I-“

Robert started laughing, and said, “Apparently, she was aiming for the face, but missed and did one better. Not that the little shit didn’t deserve it.” Even Lord Steffon had a smile on his face, and I started blushing. What was probably the most embarrassing moment of my life had apparently taken on a new meaning, as every person in the realm with an axe to grind with the Freys, of which there were likely many, now had a reason to like me.

I noticed, however, that Stannis and Lady Cassana were staring at me with bemused expressions on their faces. I remembered that I told them my experience at the Twins was a low key visit hardly worth recounting, and this seemed like a major detail to leave out. I would have to deal with that later.

“You’d probably like my sister Lyanna, Jeyne. She would stand up for herself, just like you did”, said Ned.

“Lord Walder ended up marrying some Ryswell girl recently, but some of my bannermen who attended the wedding said that people at the Twins were still talking about Merrett getting shown up like that”, said Lord Mallister with a grin. “Seriously, thank you for that.”

I noticed that Elbert was staring at me with an excited smirk on his face, as I reddened from the attention being paid to me. I wasn’t sure exactly what to say, but Robert challenged Denys to an arm wrestling match soon after, and as a result, everyone started going their separate ways.

I went back to my room in the guest tower, where Septa Mylla helped me to prepare for bed. She seemed quite put out over having to give up her room in the tower for Robert’s three friends, and having to sleep below ground with the Lord Steffon’s household staff. I knew that tomorrow, there would be many more highborn arrivals, as the joust started in no more than 3 days. Looking out the window, I saw that the Mallister tents had already been put up, and that his squires and guardsmen were busy at work shooing away some Hedge Knights from their encampment. Just before falling asleep, I remembered that the Royal family would also be arriving soon, and that put my mind at ill ease as I remembered the terrified look on the Queen’s face whenever the King seemed less than pleased about any topic.

 I must have had several nightmares about this, ranging from King Aerys on a large dragon coming to bathe Storm’s End in flame as his ancestor once did to Harrenhal, to Rhaegar carrying on a full conversation with imaginary voices in his head, and ultimately with the Queen jumping off of the ramparts of the Red Keep to a certain death.

As a result, I woke up in the middle of the night, and clutched the side of my bed with haste as I made sure that everything around me was real. I really need to stop thinking about things that upset me before bed. I decided to get up and walk to the common room at the base of the guest tower’s lodgings and sit by the fire.

To my shock, however, as I rounded the corner and started walking through the hallway to get to the stairs that would lead me down to the room below, I saw that for once, the common room was not empty.

Ned and Denys must have been sleeping in their room, but Robert and Elbert were carrying on a full conversation as they sat on separate chairs near the fire. There was no candle lit in the room, as per usual, and I could see the silhouettes of their faces from my angle only by the light of the fire. I fully intended on joining them until I heard my name mentioned in their exchange.

Okay, this might be worth hearing. I wasn’t an eavesdropper often, but I figured if I was involved, all bets were off. I decided to crouch down next to the wall, out of sight of those below and the stairway I was about to descend, but where I could still see, and hear, them speak.

Elbert slouched further in his chair, and said, “You’ve known her for how long?”

“About a year. I think I might have seen her at one of Lord Connington’s nephew’s wedding a few years ago, but she’s been living here for about a year now. But seriously, Elbert, why do you keep asking about Jeyne?”

“I’m just curious, that’s all”, he replied, with a tone that dripped with mirthful condescension.

“Do you think I’m stupid? I saw you at dinner, basically trying to crowd her onto Stannis’s lap, or that whole charade you pulled earlier when you snipped a tear into her riding dress’s thigh area when she wasn’t looking and then told her about it-

I gasped, and almost blew my cover, when I heard this. What?! I thought I was just being my clumsy self, and that I had snagged it on some brush outside while walking back from the tourney grounds. I was mortified with embarrassment when he had mentioned it during one of Robert’s duels with a Hedge Knight, but I was thankful that he had pointed it out away from prying ears, and relieved that he had not made a big deal of it. Actually, I was a little flattered that he had been so chivalrous and kind about it.  What was going on?

“Oh, come on, Robert. You know how this works. Don’t get all high and mighty with me just because we’re not in the Vale. I saw you with that Royce girl a few months ago. Or any number of the tavern wenches near the Eyrie. This is-“

“Apparently, I wasn’t clear about this, mate. She’s off limits. That’s the end of it.”

“Oh, so because you already fucked her, nobody else is allowed to? Is that how it is? Are you going to be like Ned and swear to defend her virtue or something?” Elbert said, with a laugh.

I was absolutely stunned to hear this, and it took all of my willpower not to climb down the steps and start demanding some answers. I had not known Elbert yet for an entire day, and he thinks he can speak of me in such a manner? Apparently, I was a poor judge of character, because I had quite enjoyed his company for most of the day, other than being made to feel so uncomfortable at dinner. I suppose that men like him could have that effect on unsuspecting women. Perhaps I needed to reevaluate just who I could and could not trust.

But the other part, the idea that Robert and I had, well, I mean, I wasn’t going to deny that it hadn’t passed my mind before. Nor would I deny that a part of my certainly wanted that to happen. After all, he always elicits my stomach to start doing flips when he starts laughing playfully at something I said, or pins me down when he starts wrestling me out of nowhere. And he certainly isn’t difficult to look at, with his defined jawline, sizable shoulder muscles, and deep blue eyes-

Focus! No, Robert and I were not lovers, and I would not dishonor my House to make that happen. Nor did I think he was even interested in me. Nonetheless, I continued to listen.

Robert sharply stood up, and said, “What gave you that idea? She’s a very dear friend of mine! You know what happens to girls who get that kind of reputation, and I’m not going to let you do that to her!”, Robert replied, with a heated tone to his voice.

A part of me cringed at that. Sure, I was thankful and all that Robert was “defending my virtue”, as Elbert had said, and he truly was the best friend that I had ever had, to stand up to one of his other friends like this. But did he have to act like the concept was so ridiculous?

Elbert replied with some sarcasm, “So you are telling me that you’ve got this girl, with a pretty face and an impressive set of tits, not to mention someone willing to throat punch a Frey, living at Storm’s End for almost a year, with no father or brothers nearby to do anything about it, and you expect me to believe that you haven’t fucked her?”

“No! Like I said, she’s a friend. I’m not blind, and I’ll admit that I find Jeyne to be quite attractive, but that’s not the point. She’s a highborn girl much smarter than I’ll ever be, and I’m not going to mess that up. “

“Is she really that smart, though? She absolutely fell for the dress tear thing today, didn’t say anything amiss to me at dinner, and was exactly where I wanted her to be on it, and really, tomorrow I was planning on getting her to drink strongwine with me, before taking a walk on one of these rocky beaches you have up and down this coast with her, flashing her a charming smile, and sealing the deal there”, he said, with a triumphantly glee feeling in his voice.

Um, no. That was not going to happen. Robert’s other friends seemed like great lads to interact with. They were kind, interesting, and like Robert, transparent with people. Even reserved Ned went out of his way to be nice to Stannis and I today. But Elbert, quite frankly, was a real shit stain. Robert acted on impulse, and as a result, had quite a few indiscreet amorous adventures. But there was nothing calculated or malicious about it like this.

Robert seemed to pace a bit, before saying in a subdued voice, “You’re taking advantage of someone who from what I’ve conjectured, never really had friends growing up. She’s been a very loyal friend to Stannis and I because we were nice to her, and speaking for myself, I enjoy her company. I’m asking you, Elbert, as a friend, please don’t do this. Leave Jeyne alone. “

How did he know that about me? Was I really that obvious and needy? Robert never really struck me as being that observant, but he did seemingly have a trait of being able to make anyone his friend, and that probably required some emotional intelligence.

But really, this whole episode was taking broadsword sized chops to my self-esteem. Not only did I not recognize someone pulling the wool over my eyes and readying me for some sort of tawdry seduction, but I also now know that my deeply private feelings of inadequacy and loneliness were transparent enough for Robert of all people to be able to see. And on top of that, I found out that he indeed had not considered the possibility of us being together. At least he said that I was attractive, but at this point, I was clutching at straws.

But I wasn’t going to let this bother me. The next week would be very important, what with the joust and making sure the King is pleased by Lord Steffon’s tournament. My fantasy dreams of Robert marrying me and making me the Lady of Storm’s End were not realistic. But making sure that Elbert was disappointed was going to be quite easy.

As the two of them started discussing the joust, I slipped back through the hallway to my room.

 

 

Note: The last month has been crazy for me in terms of stuff interfering, so sorry for the long delay. I’ll write when I can. Expect irregular updates.


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